


Ice Lake

by livinginthetheater



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen, Gwaine and Merlin are best friends, Immortal Merlin (Merlin), Leon and Merlin are friends, Magic Revealed, No Romance, Not Slash, also some fun magic bullshit, also we have some soft Percival, and he has a lot more friends than enemies, basically Merlin is pretty powerful, because Merlin can't die, if you want it to be it could be, lancelot mention, there are a lot of friendships in this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:55:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23922679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livinginthetheater/pseuds/livinginthetheater
Summary: When Merlin's magic is revealed, he wants nothing more than to follow Arthur's orders, but when he knows he is needed outside of Camelot, Merlin must put his immortality to good use. With the help of an unexpected friend in the castle, he must remain "dead" to all he is forced to leave behind.Basically Merlin is brave and impressive, the knights are concerned, and Arthur is guilty
Relationships: Gwaine & Merlin (Merlin), Knights of the Round Table & Merlin (Merlin), Leon & Merlin (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 45
Kudos: 267





	1. The Scout is in Fits

When Arthur pictured the rest of his life, he always pictured the same thing. The same people, the same routine, the training he had dedicated his life to, coming to fruition. He would utilize the lessons he learned in his life to propel his life forward.

Leon would be at his side, surveying his knights. Percival and Elyan would be dueling with a certain regard and respect for one another, smiling whenever the other got the upper hand. Gwaine would be sitting on the ground a few feet away, biting into an apple loudly and occasionally cheering on one of his friends over the other, constantly switching his allegiance.

Arthur would be smiling and laughing at a joke someone was telling him. And in this picture, that person had always been Merlin. Merlin making fun of Leon’s stoic expression, or making fun of Gwaine’s face when he ate. Arthur would even kill just to have Merlin make fun of him. Over anything. It was all fair game, after all Merlin never really treated Arthur the way a servant should treat his king.

Well it couldn’t be Merlin anymore. Those days were gone. Arthur lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, searching his mind for a replacement. A body to fill the Merlin-shaped space by his side. It certainly couldn’t be Merlin any longer. 

He couldn’t sleep. He felt hot, and tossed around in the covers for about an hour before finally giving up on sleep. He had then spent every hour of the night thinking. Thinking about Merlin, about his future, about Merlin’s future, about the decisions he had the power to make, about the decisions he wanted to make, about the questions and their prospective answers. It was a lot to think about.

Merlin’s trial was tomorrow. The trial to decide whether Merlin lived or died. A trial that would be overseen by every member of the council. Everyone would be waiting for what Arthur would say. What he would do.

It was so surprising. Leon was lying on the ground, bleeding out onto the cold stone of the courtyard. The sorceress ripped a chunk of the well and hurtled it toward Arthur. Merlin was putting pressure on Leon’s wounds, being torn apart by his convictions, when he desperately reached out his arm and stopped the solid stones from smashing into Arthur’s skull. Merlin’s eyes were glowing, boring into Arthur’s blue ones. He whispered something over Leon, and the blood stopped pouring, Leon’s breathing calmed.

Then Merlin had stood, and he began to chant something into the sky. Dark clouds ran into each other, being pulled from all directions violently. It began to pour, and lightning struck where Merlin commanded.

After that, Arthur witnessed a battle of magical talent, a battle the sorceress was losing. Every spell she threw at him he deflected with ease. It was clear the sorceress had no real power here, the only way to escape with her life was to take something Merlin wouldn’t dare attack. So she grabbed a child.

The child was crying as the sorceress held him in her grip, backing away. The golden light from Merlin’s eyes died, and was replaced with a soft smile, as he crouched the ground to be eye level with the child. Even though she was backing further and further away, Merlin spoke in hushed tones to the boy, calming and sure words. 

When he stood again, his hand slightly raised, and his eyes began to softly glow gold again, but no one would see the fruit of this action, as three guards surrounded him and grabbed his arms. Merlin whipped his head to each indignantly, and whispered more words Arthur didn’t understand, each guard flying off him as a golden wave of energy burst from Merlin, completing a circle around him. But it was too late, the sorceress and the child were nowhere in sight.

After that, Arthur’s memories were numb. He remembered Merlin saying his name, but not what he said. He remembered Gwaine saying Merlin’s name, and then Arthur’s, and then a lot of other words.

When Arthur had gained some stability back to his legs, he demanded a private audience with Merlin in the throne room. He needed to look him in the eyes, without the constant judgement of the council behind him.

“I’m sorry.”

Of course he was.

“I didn’t mean for this.”

Of course he didn’t.

“And I understand that you’re furious and that you hate me and want me dead. I really do. And under normal circumstances I would be completely fine with that, eager to do what you asked.”

Would he really? Would Merlin really be willing to die? Then again, hadn’t he always been willing to die for Arthur?

“But, Arthur, please, I need to help him. Please.”

Arthur stared at his servant. Magic. Merlin practiced magic. Why? Why would he? Why practice something so illegal in Camelot? As much as Arthur wished to play it off as Merlin wanting him dead, he knew better. He knew Merlin better than that. Merlin was stupid, he was foolish and constantly fretting over Arthur’s every move. Constantly being the one to shout “look out!” Jumping in the way, talking back to enemies, charging into danger. That was not a man who wanted Arthur to die.

“Tell me why.” Arthur’s response was lacking emotion, which was what he wanted.

“Arthur.”

“Tell me why you would do this.” This time there was an anger in his voice. He didn’t know if it was aimed at Merlin or for him, but nevertheless it got the man’s attention.

Merlin looked at the ground. He had been on his knees this entire time, that was where the guards placed him before exiting the room, and he didn’t dare move. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“To learn magic?”

“To have it.” There was a bitterness and a sharpness in Merlin’s voice. He didn’t need to elaborate what that statement meant, Arthur was smarter than that. “As for why I use it, you don’t seem to shy away from people who want you dead. Camelot is a lot like yourself in that manner.” If the situation were different, Arthur thought Merlin might smile while saying that. “She took him,” Merlin’s tone was dark. “He’s just a child.”

“You’ll have a trial tomorrow.”

“I’m not sure what you’ll want to know. I need to go after them.”

“You will tell the court everything about your… magic. Then your fate will be decided.”

"You mean I tell you all the reasons I don’t deserve to live so that killing me will feel justified?” Merlin’s voice was accusatory while not being condescending. He walked that line often. Often enough to know how far he could press Arthur without being run through.

“Is that what you think?” Arthur’s question wasn’t sad. It was cold.

Merlin looked into Arthur’s face. Merlin’s expression was unreadable. Almost content, or maybe it was understanding? Impossible to tell. “I know that whatever I have done in the past doesn’t concern the council. I’m not even sure if it concerns you. I have magic. My trial will simply be the precursor to me lighting my own pyre.”

“You’re telling me you would burn before all of Camelot?”

“I would burn for Camelot. But I can’t in good conscience die while that boy is missing. Not when I know I can do something about it.”

Arthur scowled. “You couldn’t do anything for him today.”

Merlin met Arthur’s anger with more. “It was your men who pulled me away. I will not apologize for what I have done in the name of Camelot. In your name. And I will not be blamed for situations beyond my control, simply because you can’t come to terms with the idea that I may have some. Control, that is. So you can go about your day, have someone else tend to you, watch as smoke billows out from the decaying wood you would have me lay my life behind on, but don’t pretend you’ve done all of this alone.” His words came tumbling out of his mouth, with a controlled rage to them.

Arthur’s face was red. “You would speak to your king like that?!”

Merlin’s fury halted in its tracks, replaced with this look of exhaustion. Arthur had never seen the man look so tired. “I hoped I would be speaking to my friend.”


	2. The Finches Grow Fat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin goes on trial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Titles of chapters are lyrics from the song "Order Has Abandoned Us" by Josh Pyke

It was silent. Eerily so. Neither dared utter another word. A knock came at the door, and Arthur didn’t feel he had the energy to give any commands. The door creaked open, revealing Leon’s face, similarly emotionless.

“Sire? Might I have a word when… when you’re done?”

Arthur looked at Merlin. Really looked at him. The power he saw come from him an hour ago seemed so foreign and distant. There was no trace of gold in the man’s dark eyes, no energy from his pale, barely lifted from the ground body. No strength in his face, that looked hollow and starved.

“I am done, Leon. Call the guards.” He waved his hand dismissively, looking out the window. Two guards filed in, one of whom was a guard that had initially grabbed Merlin in the courtyard that morning. He looked wary as he and the other lifted Merlin from the floor by his arms, which were still bound behind his back. Merlin put up no fight, and he kept his eye contact with Arthur until the doors were shut between them.

Leon shifted uncomfortably. “I apologize, sire, I can come back-” but Arthur was already holding up a hand to silence the man. He just gave Leon an exasperated look. “Right,” Leon stumbled back into his words. “I only came to ask what you wish our next course of action with the sorceress to be.”

Arthur leaned back in his throne. Part of him was so angry at Merlin’s insistence to find her himself that he wanted to tell his knights to just let her go, but Arthur wasn’t insane. She had a child that they needed to return, and why would the king offer special treatment to the malevolent sorceress when he wouldn’t offer it to his own servant? His own friend?

“Send a small group of knights after her. No more than ten or so,” Arthur reasoned. With a moment of thought, he added “have Gwaine lead the charge.”

Leon’s face showed understanding as he nodded to Arthur and walked to the door.

~

So Arthur was lying in his bed, unable to sleep, extremely curious and frustrated. Merlin had all but told him that he was born with magic and that he would never use it against Arthur, but he also understood that what Merlin said in the throne room hadn’t been wrong. While Arthur maintained the right to make the final decision about Merlin’s fate, no sorcerer had met a kind verdict since the Purge.

But what did he want? What did Arthur want from all of this? He knew what his father would do, what everyone expected him to do, but was it what he wanted to do? He honestly couldn’t tell. Killing Merlin would be what everyone wanted.

Would it? Is that really what everyone wants? It's what his father would have wanted. It's what his father’s favored councilmen would want. But what about everyone else?

Gwen didn’t want it. His wife had spent all day begging him to reason and he rejected her, wanting time alone. She was crying. Arthur hated it when she would cry, and he hated feeling like it was his fault. But this was Merlin’s fault.

Percival wouldn’t want this. He opened up to Merlin, he was fiercely protective of Merlin, because protecting the defenseless gave him purpose. But Merlin wasn’t defenseless after all, was he?

Elyan wouldn’t want this. Elyan loved Gwen, and Arthur could bet that Gwen spent the rest of the day crying into his shoulder. Elyan liked Merlin, he always gravitated toward him because Merlin was the servant in a group full of knights, and Elyan never quite felt like the knights understood him. Not like Merlin had the capacity to. But Merlin wasn’t just an average peasant now, apparently.

He cringed to think of how Gwaine was reacting. He hadn’t seen him at all since they left the courtyard, and he was extremely thankful for that. Arthur hadn’t given much serious thought to what the days, weeks, months, even years after Merlin’s death would entail. Would Gwaine find it in him to move past Merlin? Or would he be furious at Arthur and leave? How does knowing about Merlin’s magic affect how he feels about his friend? Arthur couldn’t really see Gwaine caring about Merlin’s magic, even though he should. It is illegal for a reason.

Leon always liked Merlin. He thought he was funny and entertaining. But Arthur could breathe easier knowing that Leon was maybe his only knight that he could trust to stand by his decision with understanding and respect.

Merlin had saved Leon’s life that morning. What does that mean? Of course, it means that Merlin cares about his friends, that he uses magic for good. But that hardly matters.

It should matter.

Magic was magic. But the fact that he even had to convince himself that Merlin’s lack of negativity meant anything in a trial forced Arthur to slam face first into the realization that magic doesn’t corrupt. Merlin was not corrupt. The man who knelt before him in the throne room, willing to die and desperate to help a child, was not corrupt.

~

“Leon, I wanted to ask you something.” Arthur caught up to his knight. It was early in the morning, but the trial was likely to start as soon as Arthur was ready. Everyone in the castle was upset and on edge, frantic to get on with it. “What was it like when Merlin healed you yesterday?”

Leon looked confused for a moment, before settling into a comfortable assured look. “I felt nothing but pain when I was slashed, but I just felt this warm feeling after. Like I was being instantly comforted and… er… held.” The last word made Leon blush. He looked toward the doors that lay in front of them, doors that Arthur was sure everyone waited beyond, including Merlin. He had a pensive, uncomfortable look now, but shaking his head, came back to his resolve. “I admit, what he did for me was… incredible. But magic is illegal and wrong. I have first-hand experience with your father, killing those with magic. He did it for a reason, and he hardly played favorites.”

Arthur almost objected, about to defend himself and say that he wasn’t planning on playing favorites, but he understood what Leon really meant. He was simply offering Arthur support, knowing that not everyone would be thrilled with the events of the trial. He understood that Arthur wasn’t going to play favorites.

The certainty that the outcome of this trial would be Merlin’s death radiated from Leon’s phrasing, and echoed in Arthur’s thoughts. He felt guilty, and then guilty for feeling guilt. He was torn, indecisive, frustrated.

He pushed open the doors.

~

“Merlin, you are held here on account of knowingly using magic and sorcery in the kingdom of Camelot, and using said magic to attack three guards in the presence of your king. How do you plead?”

“Guilty.”

Geoffrey spoke of Merlin's accusations calmly, and almost looked sad that Merlin admitted it. What else could he possibly do?

Arthur was quite happy that Geoffrey had asked to take charge of this trial, though he knew not his intentions. The old librarian always seemed so fond of Merlin, so he wouldn’t be surprised if the man was planning a trial that would give Merlin the most opportunity to save face.

And he was proven right, as he called each of the knights to speak their minds about what they knew about Merlin.

Elyan went first. “I haven’t known Merlin as long as some people, but the Merlin I knew, the Merlin I know, wouldn’t harm a fly. He is so gentle with every person he meets, every creature he interacts with. He has never had a negative word to say about anyone. He is not a threat. I implore the council to recognize that.”

Everyone knew this wasn’t the council’s decision, but how treasonous it would sound to implore Arthur to forget himself and his laws.

“No one has approached life with more dignity than Merlin,” Percival’s voice was clear and intimidating. “I trust him. I always have. If anyone in the entire world had even the slightest capacity to wield magic for good, it would be Merlin. There is not a vindictive bone in his body.”

Leon was next, and he stared at Merlin with an unreadable expression. “Magic has no place in Camelot.” He said through gritted teeth. He didn’t seem angry at Merlin, he seemed to fight with himself, as Arthur did. “That is what Uther believed. I believed it too.” That was all he said for himself, and as he began to step away, Geoffrey’s voice stopped him.

“Sir Leon, I have a rather odd request to make.” Leon obeyed, turning to the elder, looking surprised. “I would ask every knight who knew Merlin while under King Arthur or King Uther’s reign, and while I understand Gwaine is not here today, it would be remiss to ignore the one knight who didn’t have a chance to be here today. Lancelot.”

The weight that was held in the silence that followed was crushing. It was physical, and Arthur’s entire body felt overcome and suffocated. 

Leon was the one to break the silence after an agonizing wait. “Sir Geoffrey, do you ask me to speak for the dead?”

Geoffrey nodded stoically. “Lancelot would have something to say here, and it does not feel proper to hold this trial without his input. You knew him the longest.”

Leon swallowed hard. “If he were here…” he looked directly in Merlin’s eyes. Arthur saw that his eyes were dark, a shadow seemed to cast over his entire body. Leon continued, “Lancelot would sooner chain his own hands behind his back before watching Merlin suffer this fate.” And with that Leon stepped aside, as though the words he said meant nothing.

Gravity had never felt as pressing as it did that day. Everyone was stunned into silence. Leon was right, in a strange way. It was so honest and devastatingly painful.

“Can I say something?” It was Merlin, breaking the blanketing quiet. Everyone stared at him in horror, and then at Arthur in anticipation. He simply nodded.

Merlin took a deep breath. “Lancelot was my friend. So to say he wouldn’t want this isn’t a bad guess. But he isn’t here. Who knows how he would feel if he knew I had magic? How could anyone ever know now?” Merlin took in a deep breath. “Well, I know. I know how he would feel. Betrayed. That’s what I am, a person who betrayed all of you. Maybe I never should have come to Camelot, because that’s how I betrayed you all. I was born with magic, and for the longest time I hated myself for it. I prayed it would go away, that magic would leave my body and I could be normal and accepted.

“But I’m not. And I have come to terms with that. But I can’t be here, on trial before all of you, begging you for pity or mercy or humanity, whatever you would have me beg for. I haven’t earned the right to ask for your acceptance. And I don’t deserve your praise either.” He glanced over at Elyan and Percival. “I could waste the entire day, telling you all everything I have done from the second I entered Camelot’s gates until now. We could all sit and listen as Gaius lies to protect me, saying that he knew of my magic to lessen my punishment.

“The truth is, whether you would believe what I tell you or not, you don’t want to hear it. You don’t want what I would say to be true. Because the idea that I have been using magic to steer Camelot out of harm's way for years means absolutely nothing. All my words would do is prove to you that no matter how many times I was right or I helped someone or saved someone’s life, magic had a hand in Camelot’s fate. That alone is a crime you could never forgive me for.

“So I am sorry. I am so sorry for all the things I have done, all the times I have saved the king, or the king before him, or the knights of Camelot, or it's citizens. I am sorry for all the mistakes I’ve made, and for all the people I couldn’t save. The faces of those I couldn’t help haunt me every day, as they go forgotten. I wish that the world we lived in were different, I wish that it didn’t need magic to survive. But it does. You all do. Which is why I know you will kill me.”

Merlin paused for a moment, a cold callous look forming. “But I also know one day you will all see things differently. And I can’t watch as that happens, but it will happen. And when that day comes, you will look back on today with remorse. I understand the position that puts you in Arthur.”

It was the first time Merlin addressed him directly. If every person in that room wasn’t so terrified and shell-shocked, they may have attacked Merlin for his harshness, his inability to address Arthur correctly, or his treasonous notion that Camelot would ever regret killing him. But Merlin didn’t say that. He said this to Arthur.

It was a blur, just like the day before. A flash of gold came from Merlin’s eyes and the chains binding his wrists fell to the floor. No one could register how easily Merlin broke from his chains, and so no one reacted quickly enough to stop what happened next.

Merlin swiftly reached into his boot, pulled out a dagger that was concealed there, and thrust it into his stomach. Gasps erupted around the room, but no one could move. He stared at Arthur, never even looking at what he was doing with his hands.

He then gruesomely twisted the knife and yanked it out, finally causing a pained expression from the violence he inflicted on himself, and blood began to pour out onto the floor, and he tipped over, lying on his right side, staring at Arthur, no real expression left on his face.

He was just staring at Arthur. He wouldn’t stop staring. He was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! A little later in the story there will be a few chapters that parallel these, but with Merlin's perspective to show exactly what happened when he spent the night in the dungeon before the trial. Obviously he isn't dead, as this story is about his immortality.


	3. While the Finch is a Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwaine returns from the hunt for the sorceress that is still missing, too much too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Titles of chapters are lyrics to the song "Order Has Abandoned Us" by Josh Pyke

Gwaine was grumbling as he and his men were forced to return empty handed. It had been snowing since they left the previous night, and it was quickly turning into a storm. They trudged their boots through snow that was getting higher and higher, and as they were nearing the gates of Camelot they could no longer see inches away from their faces.

He couldn’t feel his fingers or toes, but he was too distracted to notice, with his complete focus on making his way to the castle. This blizzard was a blessing in disguise, because now maybe he would make it in time for Merlin’s trial.

Gwaine understood exactly why he was chosen to head the charge against the sorceress, Arthur didn’t want him around. And for as stupid as the man was, that was probably the only smart thing he was doing. Gwaine was bubbling over with rage, his blood simmering on a low heat that almost felt palpable against the freezing winds that carried the snow hurtling towards his face.

So Merlin had magic. And? If anything, it made more sense for him to have magic than anything he did before. Merlin was always brave and marching headfirst into danger, and Gwaine had always been confused at Arthur’s many victories and their lack of detail. 

He wouldn’t be surprised if they owed a multitude of victories and near misses to Merlin. And now Arthur would see him dead, and not even allow Gwaine the chance to speak on his friends behalf.

When the group finally got inside the castle’s walls, able to pause and breathe, Gwaine sent them to get some rest and headed straight for Merlin’s trial in the Great Hall. 

The closer he got, the more uncomfortable he got. It was quiet. He had expected shouting, anger, fighting, but he couldn’t hear any noise ring through the halls. 

Finally as he reached the end of a corridor that cornered the doors to the Great Hall, Elyan collided with him, knocking them both to the ground. Gwaine stood back up laughing, and glanced at Elyan, about to make a comment about his clumsiness. But Elyan wasn’t standing up. He was on the floor, breathing heavily, staring at a fixed point beyond the two of them.

“Are you alright?” Gwaine’s question was meant to come out as a joke, but he couldn’t manage it, it came out as genuine concern as he held an outstretched arm. Elyan looked up at him and Gwaine could see he was crying.

Immediately abandoning his friend on the ground, Gwaine tore out toward the Great Hall, terrified of the implications brought about by Elyan’s distress, but he didn’t even need to go far before seeing a nightmare.

Two guards had just left the Great Hall, the doors wide open with people quietly standing in place or following the guards with a morbid curiosity. The guards were carrying a cot between them, and on that cot lay Merlin, lifeless, with a large stain of red all over his torso. His tunic was ripped, and Gwaine could see an unmistakable knife wound around his abdomen. A little bit of drying blood came from Merlin’s mouth, and his eyes were dull, staring at the ceiling above him.

Gwaine’s blood turned to ice. He suddenly felt colder here than he had in the storm. His ears were ringing and he could faintly feel a hand on his shoulder, but he pressed forward toward the body of his closest friend. 

He put a hand on Merlin’s arm. It felt cold. He pressed another hand to Merlin’s stomach, feeling the ripped cloth, the blood, dry and fresh. It might have been a sickening feeling for the fact that he was touching an open wound, but it only sickened him to know that Merlin wouldn’t feel it. He wouldn’t know Gwaine was there, holding onto him.

He thought he might be crying, maybe he was screaming, but he couldn’t tell. He couldn’t hear anything. He felt his body shake and wondered if he was sobbing in front of everyone. It was so crowded, everyone who had come to watch the trial. He rested his forehead on Merlin’s and let himself hear and feel. His body was jerking violently, he had been screaming. They were unintelligible, perhaps he had yelled “no” or “Merlin” a few times, but it was mostly just noise for the sake of noise.

A desperation clawed at his heart. Merlin couldn’t be dead. There was no way Merlin was dead. This was a dream, Gwaine must be in the forest freezing to death, hallucinating a hell where Merlin was dead and Gwaine hadn’t been there to help him.

Gwaine had felt grief, but not like this. This was a weight, an instability, a bloody, violent pain. To see his best friend like this, a man who would never see him again. A man who had spent his last moments feeling attacked and chastised, without a friend. He would never again see Merlin laugh, or smile, or make fun of Arthur.

Arthur.

The same hand that was on his shoulder earlier pulled him away from Merlin gently. It was the delicacy in which he was taken away that allowed him to let go of his friend and watch as the guards carried him down the hall and out of his sight. He spun around and fell into those arms, weeping again. He didn’t care who it was as he spun around, even if it had been a random old council member or a complete stranger. But luckily for him, he recognized the shoulder he cried into as his queen’s. He could hear Gwen cry with him, hers more silent and dignified.

He had a moment to regain his composure and collect his thoughts, pulling away from Gwen and smiling at her gratefully. She smiled back, before going over to where Gwaine had come from, where Elyan still hadn’t gotten off the floor.

As she left, all of Gwaine’s rage came back to him. This was Arthur’s fault. He sprinted back to the open doors of the Great Hall, where Arthur stood. There were no more council members, but there were still some servants and Leon and Percival.

“How dare you Arthur Pendragon?!” Gwaine shouted as he stormed the distance between the two. He stood an inch away from Arthur’s face. “You are a cowardly, evil, rotten little man!”

“Gwaine enough.” Leon’s voice rang in his ears, but he ignored him and reached for his sword.

Large arms wrapped around Gwaine’s body, pinning his arms to his side and dragging him back. Gwaine kept struggling and screaming. “Fight me! You rat! Kill me! Kill me like you killed him! I want to know how he felt when you killed him!” He spat at Arthur’s feet, but missed actually hitting him by a few feet as Percival continually pulled him backward. Arthur’s face showed no reaction to any of Gwaine’s remarks.

“Gwaine stop hit!” Percival huffed from right behind him, struggling with the man thrashing in his grasp.

Quickly, Leon was right in front of Gwaine’s face, standing between him and the king. “Gwaine stop! Arthur didn’t kill him! He didn’t kill Merlin.” Leon’s voice was steady, his face serious but not unsympathetic.

Gwaine stopped struggling, but Percival dared not let go of him. “Merlin didn’t just keel over and bleed out from nothing.” Gwaine shot his words at Leon, wanting a reaction out of him, but Leon remained composed.

“Gwaine, I’m sorry, he stabbed himself.”

Maybe on a different day Gwaine would have swung at him, or laughed bitterly in his face for telling such an awful lie. But there was a sincerity in Leon’s face, Percival’s arms twitched around him, and behind Leon he could see a crack in Arthur’s emotionless mask. This was no lie, and it wasn’t some sick joke.

Gwaine went completely limp in Percival’s arms, the bigger man having to hold him upright so he wouldn’t fall on the ground. Eventually, Percival gave up and simply eased him to the ground, finally letting go. Gwaine was now just sitting on the floor, looking like a shell. He looked up at Arthur, this time devoid of anger. “Why?”

Arthur’s mask crumbled in front of them. Percival, Leon, and Gwaine were now the only people in the room, something Gwaine was sure Arthur would end up being grateful for. Arthur collapsed to the ground, similar to Gwaine but without Percival’s arms surrounding him. Leon ran over to his king but Arthur ignored him.

He wasn’t crying, but he looked so hopelessly pitiful. There was a hollowness to his facial features, an emptiness to every inch of his skin. Gwaine thought he looked like a corpse. A corpse with shaky, deep breaths.

Leon and Percival took a step back as Gwaine stood up and walked to Arthur. They waited in fear, he could hear their pensive movements swimming in his ears, but he ignored them. He held out his hand to Arthur.

Arthur looked surprised, and he waited a few long moments before taking his hand and letting Gwaine help him stand. Percival and Leon just stood back and watched as Gwaine put his arm around Arthur’s shoulders, supporting some of his weight inconspicuously, and started to lead him out of the throne room.

“Don’t smile, but even your breaths.” Gwaine commanded. “Don’t make eye contact with anyone except council members. Nod at them. Be stoic, and keep your mouth small and tight. Do not listen to anyone, and stop anyone from attempting to speak with you.”

Arthur did exactly as Gwaine had told him. He received nods from his councilmen, and they were split between being sad or cocky. Gwaine had to stop himself from punching that half in the face. He had to stop from buckling under his own weight with Arthur’s added, and he had to stop from punching Arthur in the face. This was Arthur’s fault.

But Arthur certainly wouldn’t recover well from this. As angry as he was, he had to admit that Arthur did love Merlin. Merlin had been Arthur’s best friend, and he knew that no matter how Merlin died, the fact that he was dead would haunt Arthur. So Gwaine swallowed his pride and took Arthur to his room, helped him onto his bed, and left without another word.

It was beginning to get dark outside, and Gwaine looked out a window toward the courtyard. He couldn’t see the ground beyond the incessant flurry of snow, and he began to cry again, knowing Merlin’s footprints in the dirt would go away, as if he had never been here at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! The next chapter will be the aftermath of Merlin's death, but after that chapter I will finally jump back to Merlin in the dungeons and explain what's actually going on! I also posted this early because I needed more time to fix a plot inconsistency in the next chapter lol


	4. The Scout is Half-Blinded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur fights a griffin and meets two helpful magical strangers that force him to reassess what he knows about magic's role in a certain event in Camelot's history. Meanwhile, Gwaine's struggle with his grief comes to a head.

The first thing that happened that woke Arthur from his depressed state was the return of the young kidnapped boy. Both Gwaine and Leon specifically were walking on eggshells around Arthur ever since… the storm.

It was easier to categorize that day by the harshness of the snowstorm than Merlin’s suicide.

Leon treating Arthur like he was breakable made sense, it was Leon’s sole duty to protect Arthur, to protect Camelot. Leon would never do anything to harm Arthur, he would never lie to him. And ever since the storm, Arthur knew he wasn’t being a very good king, but he also knew Leon knew the truth was because he had been rattled to his core.

It was a very awful… blizzard. Leon knew how the storm affected Arthur.

Gwaine was an enigma. He wandered everywhere like he was sleepwalking. He never appeared at training, he was either drunk or asleep, and he never spoke. But when he would see Arthur, he would attempt to regain his composure. Arthur knew Gwaine blamed him for what Merlin--what the storm did. But he seemed to want to give Arthur his dignity. And in return, Arthur never commented on Gwaine’s developing issues.

When Percival excitedly knocked on Arthur’s door around dusk, telling him how Erik, the boy, had been returned to Camelot, Arthur let himself be happy. He paid the boy and his mother a visit, swore to them that they would be protected, and gave them monetary compensation.

It felt good, to offer help to those in need. That was why Arthur loved being a king. He had forgotten that for a while. Maybe it was because a certain sorcerer wasn’t there to remind him anymore.

Speaking of sorcerers, where had that mysterious sorceress gone to? How was the boy returned? And why?

“I’m not sure sire,” Leon answered the next morning. “It’s what I told you yesterday. I was clearing my head, doing some light hunting, and the child just appeared from behind a tree. He was seemingly unharmed, and just confused as to where he was. I immediately took him to his mother. I didn’t look around for her, and she didn’t appear to follow us back here. Maybe he just escaped.”

“Maybe.” Arthur sighed. He was suspicious. She wouldn’t just return him, would she? Why would she give away her only leverage?

~

Percival had been acting strangely. So had everyone, Arthur surmised, but Percival more so. The man was as strong as a horse, as ten horses, but there was some emotional frailty in his house-like frame. The only thing larger than his arms was his heart.

Arthur wanted to ignore the day of the storm. He really did. But it had been three months, and he was no closer to feeling good about what happened now as he had been then.

It was making him question his morals, and everything his father had built Camelot on since Arthur was born. He had no doubt in his mind that those with magic could be evil. But now he thought maybe magic didn’t make them evil.

Magic was a weapon, that’s what his father always said. Yet, a sword is a weapon, and Arthur wielded one every day. He killed people with his sword. His father had used weapons on sorcerers to end their lives a hundred times over. Is that not evil? Is that not cruel?

Treason is a crime. And magic was treason.

He heard shouting coming from the halls, and from his windows. Arthur darted from his chair to the window to survey the commotion.

A griffin stood in the courtyard, attacking civilians. Arthur ran as fast as he could outside, barrelling through his staff in the hallways and on the stairs.

The griffin stood tall amidst the handful of guards and knights that had beat Arthur to it. It was much larger than the griffin Lancelot had defeated when he first came to Camelot. This one took up more space all around, it was taller and wider, and it looked more formidable. They began their attack.

With each strike Arthur made on the enormous creature, he thought back to Lancelot. How did he manage to quell that beast with just a lance? None of their sword strikes seemed to phase the creature, and the lance he had used had been rather blunt. Was it sheer force?

The griffin screeched once more and spun around, knocking Arthur and a few guards on the ground. Did Lancelot get him by surprise? Did he have a weak spot that they should hit? Where was the weak spot? How come no one had hit it by now?

Elyan pulled him from the ground. “We need to lead it out of the city sire!” He shouted. Arthur nodded at him, then shouted that command to all his men in the fight.

As they drew the beast from the town, Arthur thought more about Lancelot. How did he make a fake seal that was so impeccable? After all, the only notable issue with it was that there was no record of him, the seal was perfect. How?

The griffin knocked over a guard, more people began shouting, but Arthur couldn’t hear them well.

How did Lancelot know how to close that rift? How did he know what would stop the Dorocha? How did he-

Arthur was on the forest floor, grass in his mouth. That was embarrassing. He felt Percival hoist him up from his armpits and he held his king up to eye level, examining him. Arthur felt a dull bruise forming on his lower back. He had been hit by the griffin, not injuring him in the slightest, but terribly humiliating.

Percival recognized this and set him down, jumping back into the fray. But no one could seem to hit the beast. It seemed hopeless.

“Stand back!” Came a shout from the edge of the clearing.

It came from a young girl, not a child but probably fourteen or fifteen. She had short blonde hair that almost convinced Arthur she was a boy, as her hair was styled up and back, shorter than Arthur’s own. But it wasn’t her that really caught the attention of the king.

A large man, built like Percival but taller, held a spear in his hand. The man actually looked like a combination of Percival and Elyan, a large muscular force, with Elyan’s features. But what drew his attention more than the intimidating stranger, was the weapon he held. A spear, long and pointed, but glowing gold. Magic.

The knights watched in awe as the man threw his spear at the griffin, and as the spear met its flesh it went through. The griffin howled and screeched, rearing up on his claws to show it's belly. The young girl who had shouted had now raced over to the monster and she jumped up to grab the spear sticking from it's skin.

Instead of pulling the spear out, she instead threw her weight down, dragging the spear through it's exposed, upright stomach in a downward direction. It created a large open gash, as she used her weight to slice through him. When her feet landed back on the ground, she yanked the spear out of it's position.

The griffin howled one last time, and tipped over. This was unfortunate, because it went right for Elyan, who scrambled to get out of the way, but tripped over someone’s dropped sword. He would have been crushed had the griffin not suddenly glowed gold and hovered above him. The creature floated above the ground and slowly moved left of the men before slowly descending onto a clear patch of grass.

Arthur looked over to see the stranger, his arm outstretched, his eyes gold, right as he set it down. He lowered his arm, his eyes returned to brown, and he looked right at Arthur. The girl was now by his side, also staring at Arthur. But after a single blink, they had turned and were retreating back into the forest.

“Should we go after them, sire?” Voiced one of his knights. Arthur looked over to see Percival helping Elyan off the ground, his gaze following the strangers path. He turned his head back.

“No.” He didn’t want to elaborate or explain himself or defend himself, he just wanted to go back to the castle.

~

Leon met them at the gates, with a group of knights on horseback behind him. The tired but relieved expressions shared between all the knights was enough to give Leon a moment of peace, and he gave up his horse to Arthur.

Leon suggested they throw a feast for defeating the griffin, and as much as Arthur disliked the idea of taking credit for this kill, all the men that were there with him seemed to heartily push this fake story that it was Arthur’s victory, and he felt he owed them a celebration.

He was quiet at the feast. Gwen squeezed his hand every few minutes, and spent the rest of it laughing with her brother. Arthur felt even guiltier for taking this credit while coming to the conclusion that griffins couldn’t be killed without magic. What if another griffin came into Camelot? The men who weren’t there in the clearing today would question why Arthur couldn’t quell the beats if he had done so before.

But that also left him to question, how did Lancelot defeat the first griffin? He hardly believed Lancelot himself had magic--the trials that man faced were far too difficult to solve, if he had magic his life may not have been as difficult to navigate.

Was it Merlin the whole time? It had to be. Lancelot gravitated toward the man. Arthur shuddered as his mind accidentally thought back to the storm. What Leon had said on behalf of Lancelot was extremely accurate for the man’s character, but it also froze Arthur’s blood.

Did he know? Did Lancelot know of Merlin’s magic?

It would explain a lot.

Maybe he should have this conversation with Leon the next morning. Leon had excused himself from the feast. He claimed it was because he felt sick, but Arthur just assumed it was because he felt guilty for not being there to help.

But where was Percival? Even Gwaine was here, making a rare public appearance. He was quiet and drinking, but at least he was there. Percival wasn’t even in the room.

Arthur excused himself to the hallway. It was much quieter there and he felt relieved to be away from all the happiness in that room.

Lancelot supported Merlin’s magic.

Maybe Arthur had too much wine. Maybe he hit his head when the griffin knocked him down.

Lancelot wouldn’t have let Merlin die.

Arthur thought he might throw up. No, he was definitely going to throw up. He doubled over and threw up on the ground. He felt large arms around his back that had become all too familiar these days.

“Are you alright sire?” Percival asked as Arthur straightened back up.

“Yes of course, just too much wine.” Arthur put on a smile, trying not to think of all the ways he was jealous of a dead man. He looked at Percival, the man looked tired. Was he always that tired? Were the circles under his eyes always that dark?

In Percival’s hand was a blue stone on a chain. A necklace. Maybe it was the recent loss of his supper, but it almost looked like it was glowing.

“It matches your eyes.” Arthur joked, looking pointedly at Percival’s hand. Percival looked confused until he followed Arthur’s eyes and saw the necklace.

“Oh! Yeah, it's pretty.” Arthur raised an eyebrow. Percival’s face went red. “It’s not for me! It isn't even mine!” His face only got redder. “That sounds bad but I didn't steal it from a woman! It was on Elyan’s pillow! Not that I condone stealing, or that I usually steal, and of course I don't think Elyan wears jewelry-”

“Percival!” Arthur laughed. It was a nice, welcome feeling. “Stop panicking on me.”

“Sorry.” He said sheepishly. “I just saw this and… it looked familiar. I don't know where from, but I feel like I've seen it before.” He stared at it intently.

“Oh, hello!” Leon had wandered around the corner. He looked slightly frightened by running into them, and his eyes quickly fixed on the necklace in Percival’s hand. “It matches your eyes.”

Percival laughed this time, lighting up finally, and punched Leon’s shoulder.

Arthur couldn't help but smile. He was happy, finally. Seeing his friends joke around with each other made him feel more relaxed than he had in a while. He regretted leaving the feast so soon, it might have been fun.

“How about we go get some of that amazing food?” Arthur suggested to his knights. He looked at Percival with a kind expression. “We all deserve it.”

Percival smiled back at him, nodding. They looked at Leon, who looked down. “I think I'll retire for the night actually, like I said, I'm sick.” He looked at them with a sad expression.

“Alright, but could you put this back on Elyan’s bed? I shouldn't have taken it in the first place, who knows why he has it, it might be important to him.” Percival handed the necklace to Leon, who smiled at him, taking it.

Percival made his way to the Dining Hall, and Leon began to turn around, but Arthur put a hand on his shoulder. “Don't fret over the griffin, Leon. There was nothing you could do, I'm not mad at you.”

“I'm mad at myself.” Leon didn't meet his eyes.

“Well, stop. You've been such a good friend to me Leon. Things are… well they're getting better. I hope they are for you as well.” Arthur needn't justify what he meant with his words. For once, he didn't feel compelled to save face, or act unbothered.

Leon returned a warm smile. It was genuine. “I should be taking this back now,” he glanced down at the necklace, and he made a fist around the stone. “But, I might be feeling well enough to join the feast.” With that, he disappeared down the hall. 

Arthur felt happy, for the first time since the storm--no. This was the first time he had felt happy since Merlin put a dagger through his own stomach, twisted it, and pulled it out so he would bleed out on the floor.

Feeling happy was a double edged sword. He was happy enough now to push away the darkness that had shrouded him for the past three months, but that darkness had been protecting him from the truth.

The truth was, Merlin’s death left Arthur wounded. The truth was he thought about him every day. The truth was he couldn't sleep, haunted by the lifeless eyes of his friend always staring at him. The truth was, Merlin had devoted his life and his magic to Arthur and Camelot. 

The truth was, Merlin killed himself so Arthur wouldn't have to.

The truth was, Lancelot was a better friend to Merlin than Arthur was.

The truth was, Merlin didn't deserve to die.

~

Ever since Erik was returned to Camelot, and the griffin had been defeated, Arthur felt protected.

He didn't know the two strangers who were in the woods, the ones that slayed the griffin, but he didn't regret letting them go. They seemed formidable, and Arthur couldn't shake the idea that they were there for a reason. Why else would a magic user come into Camelot’s lands? So close to the castle?

He had never seen them before, and he didn't know if the girl was magic or not, but he could safely say that she was at least complicit. But never seeing them before meant they were not from Camelot, so the fact that they were there in the woods at all was suspicious. Somehow, a powerful magic user, maybe two, had been travelling through a land that had only recently driven it's one and only good sorcerer to suicide by arresting him and planning his execution, not to mention the fact that it was a land that without hesitation would kill any magic users it got it's hands on. Why would they risk it, and then proceed to save the life of the very king who would rule the land into hating magic? What did they have to gain? Well, maybe it was really what did Merlin have to gain?

But even that didn't make sense. One could argue Merlin used his magic to defend Camelot simply because he lived there, or because he loved Camelot, or because he was fiercely loyal to it, or that he was fiercely loyal to Arthur. But what did two strangers, not belonging to Camelot, have to inspire them? Did they simply want to prove the goodness of magic? Were they passing by for unrelated reasons and decided to just be helpful?

Arthur had a secret theory that it was them, or at least one of them, that had returned Erik to his mother. He thought maybe one of them freed him from the sorceress and planned on bringing him back, close enough to Camelot that he would certainly be discovered and returned home. But he had no way to prove this theory, the only thing making him believe it was that he felt strangely protected.

There had been no imminent threat to Camelot since the griffin attack three months ago. It had now been six months since Merlin’s death, and everything seemed to have wrapped itself up nicely.

Well, everything except Gwaine.

Elyan had begun enjoying the things he used to enjoy again, having returned to a new normal. He had begun to open up to the other knights, making friends and finding commonalities.

Leon was almost better now than he used to be. He was kinder, more open-minded and open-hearted. Arthur never asked him to change, but Leon’s new personality traits seemed to make him happier. Leon used to only ever smile at a joke Merlin made, but now he was smiling as he walked down hallways, smiling when it rained, and smiling when he ate. He was just a happier person.

Percival had created new daily routines, he had become more self-assured. He smiled more often, and was back to his gentle-giant ways of going out his way to assist anyone and everyone who might need the slightest bit of help.

Gwaine was none of these things. Gwaine seemed to get worse and worse. Arthur saw less of him each day. At this particular time, he hadn't seen Gwaine for two weeks. 

He would occasionally have someone check on Gwaine just to make sure he was still around, but Gwaine wasn't acting like he was a knight these days. He was always drinking. Too much.

So it was a horrible awakening when Arthur went to visit Gaius and saw Gwaine, looking horrible, lying on a cot.

“Oh gods, what happened?!” Arthur ran to examine Gwaine. His skin was incredibly pale, almost tinged blue. His breathing was so slow that Arthur wondered if he was breathing at all. His skin was incredibly cold to the touch, and Arthur ignored the heaps of vomit he was stepping in to be beside him.

Gaius was hurrying around, mixing something foul. “Some boys from the tavern carried him here, apparently he was drinking like he does everyday, and he just started throwing up. He passed out after they set him down.”

Gaius’ chambers were more of a mess than Arthur remembered, and the man looked older and more disheveled by the minute. Arthur hadn’t spoken to Gaius much immediately following Merlin’s death, but when he had, the man seemed to be as grief-stricken as one could assume. So, Arthur busied his days by sending any person with a single cough to his chambers. Gaius had never received so many patients. As Gaius seemed to improve, Arthur started to lay off with the constant cases, but he made sure to visit the physician often. Usually he did so away from his actual chambers, because there was one section in there that he didn't want to acknowledge.

Arthur did not believe Merlin when he claimed Gaius didn't really know about his magic during the trial. There was no way Gaius didn't have a hand in Merlin’s undercover life in Camelot, but with all of the revelations Arthur had come to about magic, as it pertained to Merlin and the two strangers from the woods, he didn't dare blame Gaius for anything.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Well, he seems to be poisoned, sire.” That caught Arthur’s attention.

“If someone poisoned his drink Gaius I will go right into that tavern and start-”

“No, it's not quite like that.” Gaius intervened quickly, seeing Arthur’s rise in distress. “He's poisoned himself, actually. It's not from an unknown toxin though, it's simply from his own poison.”

“Alcohol?”

“Yes. An abundance of mead and wine seems to have caught up to him. It's poisoned his system, making him sick.”

Arthur was scared to ask, but he did so anyway. “Will he be okay?”

Gaius didn't respond right away, which was an answer in and of itself. “I don't know, sire. Right now, it's not looking good.”

Arthur felt the room spin. How could he be so stupid? Obviously Gwaine was in distress, he had been a wreck for months. And there was no skating around the issue for the sake of making himself feel better, it was simply because of Merlin, no question. Everyone else had improved themselves, everyone except for Gwaine. And Arthur knew that. He knew Gwaine was drinking everyday, he knew he was at the tavern, and yet he did nothing. He thought Gwaine would drink his way out of it.

Maybe he has.

This couldn't be happening. He couldn't lose two friends right now.

~

Percival and Elyan rarely left Gaius’ chambers. Leon was unhappy leaving, but he had received an urgent summons from a few family members nearby and he was afraid to ignore it, promising he would be back as soon as he could.

One night, Elyan and Arthur were sitting by Gwaine’s side together. It was very late, and Arthur forced Percival to leave and get some sleep, but Elyan insisted that he slept the night before so he could stay now. They spoke in hushed tones about simple, non-threatening things.

At one point in the night, Arthur remembered the blue stone necklace. He had almost forgotten about it completely, it didn't seem important. But that was exactly the type of topic Arthur wanted to dwell on. Non-threatening.

“Elyan, what was your necklace from?”

“Hmm?” Elyan acknowledged his king, but looked confused.

“You know, your shiny blue stone necklace. The one that looks like it glows?”

Elyan furrowed his brow and only shook his head. “Sorry, I don't know what you're talking about at all. I don't have any necklaces. Are you talking about a necklace of Gwen’s?”

Arthur mistook Elyan’s words as defense and laughed. “Don't worry I don't assume you dress up in jewels, Elyan. I was just curious.” This time the look of confusion on Elyan’s face actually hit home. “Percival found the necklace on your pillow?” Elyan gave him a sorry look, still shaking his head. “Huh.” Was all Arthur could say now. He decided to drop it.

After a few more minutes of silence, Arthur’s eyes were drawn to the part of Gaius’ room that he dared not view before. With everything going on with Gwaine, Arthur had spent more time in this room than ever before, and now he was face to face with things he didn't want to have to think about.

“I couldn't look at it either.” Gwaine’s voice interrupted. Immediately Elyan was hovering over him, feeling his forehead. Gwaine’s voice came out scratched and dry. Elyan hastily grabbed a cup of water that had been by his bedside and carefully poured it into his mouth.

“I'll wake Gaius!” Arthur said quickly, but he felt a cold hand grab his arm. It was weak, but stiff.

“Don't.” Gwaine sighed. “I'm dying. So be it.”

“So be it?!” Elyan’s eyes widened in horror. “How dare you say something like that!”

Gwaine didn't sit up, he had barely even stirred. “I couldn't look at it when the boys brought me here. I was shouting at them not to make me come inside, but they thought it was just delirium. I just… I couldn't look at Merlin’s room.”

Arthur thought everyone had made a lot of progress in those past six months. It was possible that it was due to the fact that they had pretended to forget about Merlin. Gwaine was the only one who hadn't.

“Gwaine, you need to rest.”

“No I don't. Resting is the only thing any of us have done. I hate that you're all pretending everything is fine.”

Arthur scoffed at him. “We’re not pretending. We've just moved on.”

Gwaine looked at Elyan, scanning his face suspiciously. “Have you?” Elyan looked to the ground. Arthur’s mind hit a brick wall and his fingers felt strangely numb. Elyan had improved. Elyan was happy. Leon was happy. Percival was happy. Arthur was happy!

So why was he so sad all the time? Why did it still ache when he woke up to silence?

“You're all fooling yourselves.” Gwaine stared up at the ceiling. “None of you have moved on, not really. And it's not because his death was so hard for you all to watch, and it's not because you're shocked he had magic, and it's not even just because he was your friend.” He let out one large breath he had been holding. “It's because he’d still be here if we hadn't let him down.

“Arthur, haven't you asked yourself why you haven't taken on a new manservant since he died? Or Elyan, why have you stopped shopping at the market during your midday respite? It's not because Merlin was a fixture in your guys' lives, it's because you were awful friends to him, and his blood is on your hands.”

It was a cruel comment, but Arthur couldn't find it in him to argue with his friend. Gwaine went on, “Arthur, you put the man on trial. You hated him for having magic, you just couldn't look past it. Elyan, you and Percival let this happen to him. You didn't try to talk sense into Arthur, you just let it be. And I wasn't there. I could have said no to leading the charge to find that damn sorceress we never found, I could've stayed, maybe broken him out of the dungeons. But I wasn't there. And now, I'm here, and I'm letting him down again.”

“What do you mean?” Elyan’s voice was gentler than it had any right to be, but Arthur couldn't blame him. He didn't feel angry at what Gwaine was saying because it felt right.

Gwaine squeezed his eyes shut. “I'm letting him down because I'm dying. He wouldn't want that. He would smack me upside the head and call me an idiot. He would be disappointed in me.”

“But Gwaine, he couldn't be too angry.” Arthur reasoned. “He killed himself, he would understand what it was to inflict this kind of pain-”

“But this is different. Merlin killed himself so you wouldn't have to. No one was lining up to kill me, at least no one who would ever regret it. I'm not doing anyone any favors.”

Arthur’s voice became very dark. “Merlin didn't do me any favors by killing himself.”

“Yes he did.” Elyan mumbled quietly. Even Gwaine had to turn his head to him, surprised. “I'm sorry if I'm speaking out of turn… but I'm not happy. I want to be, but I'm not. And I don't think you are either, Arthur. If Merlin hadn't done what he did, can you honestly tell me you wouldn't have seen him executed? And can you look me in the eyes right now and tell me that you would be happy you did?”

Gwaine’s hand once again grabbed at Arthur’s arm. “It's better this way, better for me. I'd rather be dead than live everyday as I have been. I'm tired.” Gwaine slowly drifted off when he spoke, until finally falling completely silent. 

Elyan quickly panicked again, putting his head to Gwaine’s chest. “He’s still breathing, I think. Wake Gaius!”

After receiving a tongue-lashing from the old physician and an unsure promise Gwaine would live the night, Arthur and Elyan were ushered into the hall. They walked back quietly, going the same direction.

As they finally reached a point where they were diverted from each other, Arthur stopped Elyan by clasping his shoulder. “Did you mean what you said, that you weren't happy?”

Elyan nodded somberly. “Are you?”

~

Arthur sat by Gwaine’s bedside early that morning. He was completely unresponsive and unconscious, and Gaius informed him that he wouldn't last the day.

At one point, Gaius spotted Leon’s return and left Arthur and his knight alone, having promised to meet Leon the second he arrived with updates on his friend’s wellbeing.

It had been one day shy of a week since Gwaine had been brought in, and Arthur really hoped he would make a recovery.

“So, I know you can't hear me or anything, but this might be my last chance to speak to you, so I'm just going to do it anyway. Is that okay?” Silence. “I'll take that as a yes, I suppose.

“I thought we all moved on from Merlin. I really did, and I'm sorry because I know that made you feel even worse. You're right, I didn't take a new manservant because I couldn't bear having anyone near me in such a personal way again. Before Merlin, manservants were just tools to me, inanimate objects I could control, but he was different.

“I shared so much of my life with him. He saw me at my worst and my best and he somehow managed to put up with it all, while I spent all our time together reminding him of his place. It wasn't fair. So, I guess I can understand that although he knew every inch of my life, I didn't know anything about him. Not really. Not what counted. But while I didn't know about him, I still knew him. It's different, I didn't know what he did when he wasn't next to me, but I knew how he felt, what he would say, how he would react.

“I'm not okay. I'm not happy. I can come to terms with that Gwaine, I really can. It was premature of me to assume everyone was happy and okay with this now. I can recognize that they're not okay. But Gwaine, you need to understand that we will be. We can acknowledge our grief, but we can’t live in it forever.

“Look at you. I can’t do that, and I doubt the others could either. Just because we aren't okay yet doesn't mean we won't be or that we can’t be. The truth is, we will be okay. And even if Merlin is in Avalon spitting on me from the beyond, hating me for what I drove him to do, he wouldn't ever ask us to wallow in shame forever. He would probably be pissed we let ourselves grieve for as long as we already have.

“I wish you were here. Really here, not the ghost you've been for six months.” Arthur finished, satisfied with what he said. It was odd, why hadn't Gaius come back yet?

He heard a clattering sound from behind him. He spun his head around to see that Gaius’ chair had been knocked over. Arthur stood to his feet, scanning the room for intruders.

His eyes locked on a scroll that was on Gaius’ desk, it was suddenly surrounded with gold and floating in the air. It was moved a few inches and then dropped again. Arthur was confused to say the least. There was no one here, yet someone was using magic. He ducked his head into the hallway, but there was no one around. Turning back to the room he saw a plant floating to the middle of the floor.

Arthur ran to the window, and this time was met with what he was looking for, the source. Beneath him was a familiar face, the young blonde girl from the day the griffin came into Camelot. Her eyes were gold and her hand was outstretched, and she was out in the open so it was a miracle no one saw her.

Overwhelmed by his curiosity, Arthur bolted from the room and made his way outside. Those two strangers had occupied a large part of his mind since they slayed the griffin and Arthur didn't want them to slip away again. Clearly, she had been trying to get his attention, which should be a red flag, but Arthur didn't care for the consequences. She wouldn't be luring him into plain sight if it were some kind of trap.

He thundered down the steps, into the courtyard, and made a break for where he had seen her. She was nowhere to be found. He looked around where he had seen her, it seemed impossible that she could disappear so quickly.

Suddenly realizing that taking the bait of a young girl who possessed magic and leaving his dying friend may have been a bad idea, he ran back inside and toward Gaius’ chambers as fast as he had left, now fueled with frustration.

When he got back he saw that the door was open, which only served to scare him even more. What if she had distracted him while the other stranger from the day, the large burly man, came into the castle to kill Gwaine? The man who was already dying…

So as the realization that any attack on Gwaine was stupid and Arthur was being crazy hit, he saw it was only Gaius having returned. But it was the other sight that was even stranger.

Gaius was fretting over a completely lucid, conscious, Gwaine. He was sitting up and moving around, dodging Gaius’s hands that were grabbing at his face and arms.

“I'm fine!” Gwaine laughed, batting away Gaius for the thousandth time. He looked up at Arthur, and had a big dopey grin on his face. “Hey there princess. Miss me?”

Arthur’s jaw had dropped, but it turned into a smile. “Maybe a bit, but don't tell anyone.” He crossed the room and enveloped Gwaine into a big hug, something that felt unfamiliar but not unwelcome to both. “Don't ever do that again. I know that-”

Gwaine interrupted him as he pulled away. “Trust me, it will never happen again. It was reckless and stupid, and I let my feelings get the better of me.” He looked at the ground, smiling so wide Arthur had to wonder where this was coming from. “I can’t believe I would do that in the first place. I'll be staying away from the tavern for a long time now.”

Without waiting for another word, Gwaine pushed through Arthur and Gaius and slipped into the hallway. Arthur chuckled to himself and wandered back to the window he had been at only minutes ago. His eyes drifted to where he had seen the girl before, and he was utterly dumbfounded to see her there again, and not alone.

Where she had stood before was where she was again, with the other stranger from the woods. Again, they were looking up at the window, and the girl and the guy waved at him. Arthur was numb, and couldn't move his legs.

Against what should have been his better judgement, he simply waved back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this one was longer, originally it was supposed to be two separate chapters, but the griffin + the feast was short on its own and I've been promising Merlin's chapter soon so it felt evil to slip in two separate chapters without him! Thanks for reading, comments are greatly appreciated :) next chapter coming soon because hey it's still quarantine where I live


	5. At Points There Was an Order

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and his knights are faced with more trouble at the return of the evil sorceress, but she isn't the only person to make an unexpected return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter titles are lyrics to the song "Order Has Abandoned Us" by Josh Pyke

Everything had fallen back into place. Arthur was back to his rule and his daily routine, confident and sure of his decisions. He was more isolated this year, there was no question, but he was still functioning well. Gwen and him would eat all their meals together, just chatting everyday, and it was never about the storm.

Percival and Elyan had been like they always were, laughing and enjoying life and constantly challenging each other and turning everything into a competition. Leon would watch them and tell them to get back to work before somehow always being roped into their little bets and somehow always besting the two.

Ever since Gwaine’s miraculous recovery almost six months ago, he had been happy. Maybe not as social as he used to be, but he gravitated toward Leon often and seemed to enjoy himself in conversation. 

The truth was, Arthur had stopped letting the memories of Merlin rule his days. He had grieved, and he could admit that grieving was in fact what it was. And while he wasn't sure where to progress from there when it came to magic, he hadn't been faced with magic since the day Gwaine healed. He hadn't seen the two sorcerers who-he assumed-had a hand in Gwaine’s recovery since that day. He had waved at them and they simply walked out through the lower town. Unafraid, possibly because they knew that they had nothing to fear.

“Is something on your mind, my love?” Arthur asked as his wife stood at his chamber’s window, looking outside. She had been very quiet today.

“Oh I'm alright. I just expected it to snow.” Arthur made his way to her and rested his head on her shoulder from behind her, his hands on her arms. She held them softly as he was wrapped around her. “I have a bad feeling about today.”

Arthur kissed her cheek. “Should I ask why, or is it the reason I already know?” Her silence spoke volumes. He sighed.

She rested her head against his. “I can’t believe that tomorrow will have been a year. It seemed to go by so slowly but now that it's really been a whole year, it seems so fast. So wrong.” She stared at the people outside that were bustling around. “I know that things have returned to normal, but I still miss him. I just wish that…” She trailed off.

“What? I won’t be mad.” His voice was comforting and warm.

He had felt her tense in his grasp, but as he said that she relaxed. “I wish that I knew where he was buried so that I could visit him tomorrow.” This time it was Arthur’s turn to tense up. He had improved when it came to freely talking about Merlin’s suiced and trial, but he hated to think about what had happened that night after Merlin’s body was carried to Gaius’ chambers.

“I know how you feel dear.” He paused thoughtfully. “Maybe tomorrow we could find a druid camp and ask where they took him.”

Gwen sighed, sounding tired. “No, we shouldn't. We don't know where the druids that took him would even be. Maybe we could go to one of his favorite spots instead, like the Lake of Avalon, or the Cresting Hill.” She turned her head to look at Arthur. He smiled and nodded, leaning in to give her a kiss.

It started with a shout. Then several, growing screams. The king and queen looked back at the window they had stared out of and were shocked as they met a terrifying sight. 

Smoke billowed out from a distance, Arthur could gauge that it came from the lower town. He could see flames shooting into the sky, large and all-consuming, hungrily clawing upward, swallowing houses and shops.

Arthur and Gwen gasped, horrified. Townspeople were running toward the castle’s courtyard, being driven upward by the fire. The sky was becoming a mass of dark, thick gray smoke. There were shrieks and cries, and Arthur could already see people with burn marks.

Arthur began to shout orders at his knights as he raced through the halls, commanding them to bring in the wounded. He would be forced to make all large hall spaces into medical chambers, and it sent shivers down his spine how similar to wartime it felt.

He ran headfirst into Percival, looking distressed. “Sire, where is Leon? Have you seen him?” Arthur shook his head, about to leave before the man went on, “last I saw he said he needed to grab something he dropped in the weapons shed, but it's bursted into flame. I need to know he got out in time!” Percival dodged around Arthur, heading outside. Arthur followed him, and as he finally got outside he was met with a gruesome sight.

He could see fire on the horizon, it was surrounding the entire kingdom from where he could see. It was moving fast, driving people toward the castle, and Arthur began to panic. There was no way out that wasn't consumed with flames, there was nowhere he could shepherd his people to safety.

He felt a firm hand on his shoulder, pulling him from his spiral. He turned, expecting to see one of his knights, but instead was met with the male stranger.

His presence was comforting and confusing. It was the first time one of the strangers had directly interacted with him. He hadn't seen this man since Gwaine recovered, and he hadn't seen the man do anything since the griffin attack. But Arthur was just relieved to see this man who had proven he was a capable fighter have a concerned look on his face.

“King Arthur, you must get these people in the castle.” His voice was deep and commanding.

“I would love for it to be that easy… sir-?”

“Dameron. Just Dameron.”

“Okay well Dameron, the castle isn't fireproof. I would be caging them in.”

Dameron looked toward the lower town in the direction of the woods. “They have no better chance to survive. I promise you, if you stay in the castle it won’t meet the same fate as your towns.” He gave Arthur a very serious stare. “This is magic. The bad kind.”

A year ago Arthur would have argued that all magic was the bad kind. But the man he was speaking to alone was proof that wasn't true. “Who would do this against me?”

The man glared at him. “Someone celebrating the anniversary of a humiliating defeat.” His words were extremely pointed and hardened, implying that Arthur should know who it was and that Dameron himself knew about the circumstances surrounding it.

Arthur suddenly lost his balance, not even feeling Dameron grab him to steady his weight. The anniversary. Gwen had been so busy pointing out that tomorrow was the anniversary of Merlin’s death that Arthur hadn't comprehended that today was the anniversary of Merlin’s magic being revealed. When he fought-

“The sorceress!” He gasped, more for himself than Damerron, as it was obvious the man already knew.

Dameron nodded. “She’s learned some new tricks since she ran away, kidnapping that child.”

“It was you!” Arthur studied the man with awe. “You were the one who returned Erik to his mother!”

“Not exactly. We don't have time for this. You there!” Dameron’s eyes lit up as he spotted a knight running across the training field beside them. Arthur let out a breath as he saw that it was Leon, and saw that he was okay. “Get all these people inside the castle!” Leon didn't hesitate or wait for Arthur to agree, he just nodded, bewildered and confused.

Arthur made quick work of it himself, corralling everyone they could find into the castle. The fire spread closer and closer to the courtyard, like a timer.

He saw another familiar face running toward them with a woman at her hip. “She’s hurt, someone take her inside!” The young girl shouted. It was the same young girl with the short blonde hair from the griffin attack. The one he had seen side by side with Dameron.

“Hollie! Where is he?!” Dameron rushed to her. “The fire is spreading too fast, and my magic is no match for it. How can we protect these people if he’s not here?”

She met his eyes, a mature bravery in her own. “He’s here, but he can only be in a few places at once.” She let out a laugh at the end of her statement, earning a satisfied smirk from Dameron. She turned to Arthur. “It's nice to finally meet you, your highness.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” he said dryly, but not sarcastically. “Who are we waiting for?”

They shared a look. “We need to get inside, maybe try to heal some of these people,” Hollie stated definitively. The two ran up the steps and disappeared inside.

Arthur scanned his surroundings one more time. There was no more waiting, the fire was here. It was palpable and the smoke was filling in around him.

About to turn and seek shelter within his castle, he heard small coughing to his left. Turning, he saw a young boy, probably Erik’s age maybe younger, coughing and struggling to run from the fire nipping at his heels. 

Arthur ran to the child and simply lifted him from the ground and ran to the castle. The flames were higher and closer every second, and caught by surprise, Arthur tripped on the steps as he felt a searing heat on his calf. He looked up away from the castle and saw the fire right beside him. Waiting to be consumed by the flames, he wrapped himself around the boy and waited for the burning pain he had just felt in his calf to be doubled as the fire would spread across his whole body.

But it didn't come. He opened his eyes and let the boy go, who ran up the steps and inside. Arthur couldn't even stand with the pain in his leg, but he didn't have to. He could see the fire attacking every inch of his kingdom, but it hit a wall created right at the first step. The wall was transparent, but sparkling and tinted gold.

Magic.

But that wasn't the crazy thing. He looked up to the sky and saw that the wall went all the way up and over his castle’s turrets. They were in a magic bubble, protecting everyone in the castle from the fire. But when he tilted his head back down from the sky he saw the sight that made him almost pass out on the spot. A man stood only feet from Arthur, but on the other side of the magic wall. His hands were lifted and his eyes were gold. The gold faded out of his eyes and they met Arthur’s. He looked different, his hair a bit shaggier, the mask of thin and light but well kept facial hair.

Merlin. The dead man. The ghost. Merlin stood on the other side of a magical protective bubble of his own creation, staring at Arthur. He lifted a hand and his eyes flashed gold again, aimed at Arthur.

Arthur wasn't sure what he expected, but as Merlin turned and walked away, Arthur realized all the pain from the burn in his calf was gone. Merlin healed him. Arthur stood up, as if to follow him. But walked right into the magic bubble, solid as rock. He could only press his body and his hands against the force and watch.

Merlin walked into the middle of the courtyard before them, the flames surrounding everything, parting for him. “Petra!” Merlin shouted. It was Merlin’s voice. It was Merlin’s face, his body, his magic, overwhelming the king.

Merlin was soon face to face with the sorceress. Arthur hadn't seen her yet and was surprised to see her, even though he had known she was behind this. The fire stayed away from the two of them as they came face to face. “Petra, enough of this.”

‘Arthur come inside-whoa…” Elyan’s voice trailed off, Arthur pried his eyes off Merlin to turn and see Percival, Elyan, Leon, and Gwaine walk down the steps all looking up at the magic bubble. Dameron and Hollie came out behind them, less impressed by the magic, as Arthur could see they were much less surprised. Arthur said nothing and turned back to watch Merlin and the sorceress. They were arguing, it was obvious, but Arthur couldn't really hear what they were saying. It was heated though, with both of them looking furious.

Arthur ignored the gasps and muttering beside him as now everyone had lined themselves up against the wall. Dameron and Hollie were lined up to his right and his knights were lined up on the left. He took a second to look at everyone beside him, from one end to the other.

Hollie looked concerned, while Dameron looked angry and restless. Percival and Elyan wore the same shocked expression, Leon concerned and slightly relieved, glancing around at the magic wall with awe. Gwaine had this big dopey grin on his face. That one wasn't surprising at all.

Arthur looked back at Merlin and the sorceress. Their arguing had apparently reached a boiling point as she raised her arms and sent a ball of fire toward Merlin. She began to draw in fire from all around, forcing it to swallow Merlin. Arthur didn't even blink as Dameron punched the magic wall.

All the fire surrounding Merlin suddenly exploded away from him and shot into the sky, dissipating. Merlin looked unphased and untouched. With a single flick of his wrist, the sorceress passed out, falling limply to the ground. 

Merlin used other small hand movements to have roots and dirt grow around her ankles and wrists, sprouting from the ground and basically chaining her down. Then, Merlin shut his eyes and lifted his hands, outstretched on either side of him. He slowly brought them down and together in front of him, and then back up. While he did this, winds began to pick up, blowing harshly and following his hands. He aimed it at a shop only a few feet away, and it carried the flames out completely, drawing them into the air where they then spread out until they were nothing.

Merlin began to do this to every building and every single thing that was on fire, making quick work of it. It was only seconds later that the fires in the upper part of the town had all died. Merlin was nowhere to be seen, but in the distance there were fires being sucked up into the air above individual houses, leaving a mark for where Merlin must be within the lower towns.

Suddenly Arthur felt the ground crashing toward him. He caught himself with his hands, but earned burning scratches on his palms. It quickly became obvious that everyone who had been beside him fell forward too. The magic bubble was gone, there was no more threat.

“Your highness?” Dameron’s voice followed him as Arthur stood up and walked to the sorceress. He ignored him and knelt down next to her. She was out cold, but still alive. He brushed his fingers on the roots wrapped around her wrist. Merlin commanded nature. He did it with such ease.

Arthur felt raindrops on his head, and looked up. Gray clouds were flying in from all corners of the horizon. The raindrops felt cool and calming, and Arthur noticed all the residual smoke in the air was being sucked into the sky, replaced with the ever cooling feeling of the rain.

Arthur looked at his knights. They were standing now, but frozen. Their expressions were unreadable, and Arthur wondered if his were as well.

“Some people were injured. Can you help them?” Arthur turned to the magic strangers. Dameron and Hollie both shared a look.

“Maybe I can try, but I'm not very experienced with my magic yet.” Hollie admitted. “Dameron doesn't have any healing magic, so if I can’t help them-”

“You can try, can’t you?” Arthur didn't even look at her as he walked right past everyone and up the steps of the castle. He knew they followed him in, but he didn't have the energy to interact with them. He feared what would happen if anyone brought up what they just witnessed.

Merlin took out a dagger from his boot, thrust it into his torso, twisted it, and pulled it out. That was suicide. Just stabbing it in himself was enough to kill a man, twisting it to kill two, and pulling it out for three. So how could a man who died three times over have stood out there and rescued Camelot? Again, he might be bothered to add.

It had been a year. Everything was fine again. Everything was great and Arthur never thought of him. Arthur didn't think about him when he went hunting and felt the ache of his absence in how he could now actually catch something. Arthur didn't smile every time someone dropped a platter because it reminded him of how many times Merlin would do that. Arthur didn't cry when he was alone every damn day because it still somehow hurt so much, because how could he have been so stupid?

Everything was fine. It was absolutely, fantastically fine.

They arrived in the Great Hall, where there were dozens of cots, lined with suffering people. Some had burns that were minor, while others looked disfigured. Arthur felt the urge to vomit out of guilt. Why couldn't he manage to avoid things like this? Why did his people have to suffer again and again?

Hollie had already leaned over the same woman she had been helping when he saw her earlier, she had a nasty burn wrapped around her calf and shin on her right leg. Hollie muttered something, holding her hands above her burn. When she was done, the color became more timid, and the woman had a slight ease in her face, but it was still there.

“I can’t. I'm sorry your majesty. I just don't have the magical capabilities yet.” She looked at her feet. “I don't have that power, but Emrys does.”

Arthur was surprised to hear about a completely new player this late into events, having expected to hear her say Merlin. “Another sorcerer? How many of you are coming to Camelot?”

Dameron shook his head. “Not another sorcerer, Merlin. Emrys is another name for him.” Before Arthur could assert more confusion, Dameron added, “I'm sure the two of you can argue this out later, but right now he is the only person who can provide your people any relief.”

Arthur looked to his knights for support, but they all looked so… pitiful. Either wounded or confused or offended, or downright sympathetic. “Okay go get him then. Now.” Arthur let out his words in one big breath, defeated.

Hollie and Dameron wordlessly left the hall, and Arthur felt dizzy again. He was going to get to see Merlin again? He hadn't realized until now, but he was actually happy to see him. He was thrilled. He felt like he could fall on the ground, sobbing. What does that even mean?

Would Merlin hate him? That was what really worried Arthur. He was pissed and confused about Merlin’s “death”, but did he have a right to be mad? Yes. No? He wasn't sure.

“How? How is he alive? How is he here?!” Elyan’s voice was high-pitched, the telltale sign that he was freaking out.

“I asked him to come.”

Everyone turned their heads to look at Leon. He had an awkward, uncomfortable smile on his face. His eyes lit up with a realization. “Oh, I called him here with…” he dug around his pockets for a moment before pulling out what he was looking for. “With this!” It was a glowing blue stone, it was small, sharp and jagged.

“Is that the from the same type of stone in Elyan’s necklace?” Percival asked intently.

“Wait what? I don't have a necklace.” Elyan looked at Percival with intense confusion.

“I can explain that. I can actually explain everything.” Leon said, giving a sad, apologetic smile toward everyone.

But as Leon took a breath in preparations to indulge a very long story, the doors opened again, and standing in the middle of the entrance was Merlin.

“Hello.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the newest installment! Yay Merlin returns! Now I promise that as we get into the next chapters, which are Merlin and Leon's POVs, everything that has been vague or barely explored will be actualized and everything that has happened will piece itself together! Also thank you guys for all the comments, they make me super happy!


	6. The Order Did Abandon Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night Merlin spends in the dungeons awaiting his trial, he and a friend plan for the worst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter titles are lyrics from the song "Order Has Abandoned Us" by Josh Pyke

Merlin felt like the world around him was crumbling. Somewhere, there was a little boy in the hands of an evil sorceress. Somewhere, there was a king questioning his ability to trust. And Merlin was stuck. In a cell, in a dungeon, where he would be all night instead of out there, fixing every problem that he faced like he usually did.

There was actually a safety in this cell, he had to admit. The word was out. The cat had long since left the bag. No one would harass him down here, he could simply lie on the floor, one leg bent with his foot flat on the floor and his other leg crossed over it. He looked relaxed, he felt relaxed.

He was stressed, terrified, of course, but he didn't have any chores to do tonight. He didn't have to worry about waking in time to wake Arthur tomorrow. He didn't have to worry about accidentally using his magic reflexes if Arthur threw something at him, or if he tripped in front of people. 

Truly, he still had much to worry about. How was he going to be able to help Camelot from his confinements? Okay, that one was actually easy. He wasn't really trapped. He could leave anytime he wanted. Merlin could let out a breath and the door would unlock. He could snap his fingers and cause the door to completely disappear from existence, but now wasn't the time for being flashy. He’d done enough of that with the sorceress this morning.

No. He didn't want to escape. He knew that he needed to find that boy, but if he fled Camelot now he certainly wouldn't catch up with the pair by sunrise, much less have the boy returned home and Merlin back in the dungeons before anyone noticed.

The boy would survive until Merlin could think of a better plan. But right now, Merlin had zero plans. What would come of tomorrow? He shuddered to think of all the heinous possibilities.

Merlin was devoted to Arthur. He was fiercely loyal, and that didn't change if Arthur hated his guts. Merlin would always see Arthur as his best friend. The look in Arthur’s eyes today, when he spoke to him in the Great Hall, questioning him, burned Merlin’s heart. He could pretend to be mad at Arthur for reacting this way, but he always knew that this is how it would be. And Merlin had to consider his own agency, and the fact that this must be killing Arthur, even if he would never admit Merlin meant anything to him.

Did he? Did he mean anything to Arthur? He didn't want to think of that now. What he needed to think about was how the hell he was going to-

“You seem pretty calm, all things considered.” Merlin moved his head slightly. Leon. 

Merlin flashed him a sarcastic smirk. “Well what do I have to fear? Death or something?”

“Probably.”

Merlin just rolled his eyes, not questioning why Leon sat down so he could be more level with him. “Come here to ask me why I did it, Leon? Why I learned magic, why I use it in Camelot, why I would do any of the things I’ve done?”

“Actually, yes, but that's not the first thing I think I should say.” Merlin lifted an eyebrow in his direction. Leon just sighed. “I have devoted my life to being a knight of Camelot, as you know. And Uther was the man I signed up to serve. I much prefer Arthur’s leadership, mind you, but I always admired Uther’s strength and unwillingness to negotiate, cooperate, or compromise.”

“That sounds kind of rehearsed.”

“Well it kind of is.” Merlin could feel Leon’s eyes bore into him. He continued staring up at the ceiling, too scared to actually look at the knight. Leon was clearly the least likely to accept or even pity Merlin.

“You know, if you came here to kill me early, I must tell you that it won’t be as simple as you are expecting.”

“What?!” This time Merlin did look, and Leon surprisingly looked horrified and offended. “No, I came here because… well… I did everything Uther asked. I helped him arrest dozens of sorcerers, so that he could kill them. Maybe hundreds. I killed whoever he set me upon. I was proud to follow orders. I thought magic was evil.”

“You thought?”

“I was wrong.” Leon’s eyes met Merlin’s and they were so desperate. Merlin finally repositioned himself from lying on the floor to sitting up, legs crossed, mirroring Leon. Leon, the head knight. Leon, the knight who struck fear in the hearts of magic-users everywhere.

“Leon, please realize what you are saying here.” Merlin cautioned the man. He had always had so much respect for Leon. They hadn't always gravitated toward each other, or clicked like he had with the other knights. He always wanted to, but he felt a disconnect with him. Until that moment, where he never felt more tethered to a single person.

Leon shook his head. “I know I sound crazy. But, even though we haven't always been the best of friends Merlin, I know you. And if magic truly corrupts like Uther believed, then it wouldn't make an exception for anyone. And somehow, it appears, it made an exception for you. So I have to believe that magic isn't inherently evil.” He looked nervous, and seemed to be waiting for Merlin to answer him.

“I’m… surprised, to say the least. You're right of course, magic doesn't make a person bad.”

“Yes, killing innocent people makes you bad.”

“Leon you're not being fair.”

“Yes I am! My hands are stained red from all the blood I've drawn.”

“Leon listen to me.” Merlin ordered, which seemed to set off an instinct in Leon, his posture straightened and he looked straight ahead into Merlin’s eyes. Of course the man would have an instinct to follow orders. “You've made some mistakes. Lots of them, some big ones. But you didn't understand and you didn't know. And as someone born with magic, constantly looking over their shoulder for smoke, I can promise you, deaths you made on a tyrant king’s orders are on that king’s conscience. Not yours. Do you understand?” His words were harsh and commanding. Leon nodded slowly.

“I know it isn't entirely my fault. But I do have guilt to carry.” He shook his head. “I won’t sit idly by anymore Merlin. I'm breaking you out of here.”

Merlin couldn't help but laugh. Leon’s eyebrows furrowed, he looked frustrated and hurt, so Merlin quickly explained, “sorry, it isn't you. Leon, I don't think you have a complete understanding of me yet.”

Merlin could feel the magic that coursed through his veins rise to his fingers. He lifted his wrist and the cell door disappeared. For a moment there was nothing separating the knight and the warlock anymore. Merlin waited a second to let it sink in, before flicking his wrist back down as the door appeared again. Back where it was. Leon tentatively stroked one of the bars, as if to prove it ever really existed.

Leon looked up at Merlin, looking furious. “Why the hell are you still sitting here?”

“I'm not escaping, Leon. You know better than anybody I know what it means to be loyal to Arthur.” They shared a look that had years of exhaustion written all over it. “If I left in the night, all it would do is harden his heart, to me and to magic. He would be consumed by the bitterness of failure, and he would only grow more intolerable than he already is.”

“So, you're saying that you'll burn for him?!”

“If only it were that easy,” Merlin sighed, running his hands through his hair. “If it were up to me, I'd take whatever punishment he saw fit. I'd die the second he commanded it.”

“Is it not up to you?”

“Apparently not.” Merlin narrowed his eyes, looking Leon up and down. “Can I trust you? Like, can I trust you with something terrifying? I know you're here in earnest, but there are some things that you may not want to know about, there are things you may not want to be involved in.”

Leon’s gaze never wavered. “I just offered to help you escape, which would be treason. I clearly no longer care what I am or am not privy to or involved with.” He leaned forward a bit. “I cannot be the man who sits in the dark and lets other people control him. I get to decide who to trust, and I trust you. In turn, I hope you can trust me.”

Merlin leaned back against the wall, defeated. “Do you remember last summer, when I went missing for a few days?”

“Yes, of course. Arthur would hate for me to tell you but he was driven up the wall.” Leon laughed. “He was in such a bad mood while you were away.”

“Well I wasn't honest about where I’d been. See there had been this sorcerer, a nasty fellow who had tried to kill Arthur at a banquet where I had secretly chased him out. I followed him out, hoping to ensure he wouldn't return, but he got the jump on me, and used an enchanted blade to stab me through the heart.” Ignoring Leon’s shock, he continued. I woke up, and wasn't sure how many days had passed, but as I felt through the dried blood on my shirt, I couldn't feel a single wound. There wasn't even a scar. It was like he hadn't touched me.”

“How is that possible?”

“That's what I intended to find out. I visited an old friend of mine, who knows more about magic matters than I do. She told me that I was immortal.” Merlin paused, letting Leon mull over what he was telling her.

“She told you that you were immortal.” Leon repeated dryly.

“Yes. But she’s not usually wrong. She told me that if anyone tried to kill me by any means, it wouldn't phase me. Someone could run me through, or light me on fire, and I would feel the pain, but the second it was over, I would begin to heal, rather quickly. The only thing that could take me out for a while, is if someone used magic to kill me. I would actually die, but I wouldn't remain that way forever.”

“I don't understand, you've been injured before, nearly died from wounds caused by no magic. You didn't always recover so quickly.”

“Yes, apparently my immortality didn't appear until I needed it.”

“Meaning… you became immortal the first time you actually were dying?”

“Exactly. The pain I would feel from non-magical threats on my life could still be tortuously awful, but never unbearable or debilitating in any way.”

“But magic will actually kill you, just not for long. How long, exactly?”

Merlin cocked his head, needing to think about it. “I'm not sure. I only died that one time, and then again later the same day I found out I was immortal.” Merlin blushed sheepishly, embarrassed. “I wanted to test it out, so I used magic to kill myself, by enchanting a dagger and stabbing myself in the stomach. I woke up, completely healed, but I had no idea how much time I passed. I returned to Camelot after that, and I haven't had an incident since to help me gauge time.”

Leon let out a breath he had been holding. “That’s… quite a lot Merlin.”

“I know. I don't know if I'll even age. Freya said I wouldn't.” He backtracked, “Freya is the girl who told me about my immortality.”

“I… have a lot of questions.”

“I don't have those answers. Or maybe I do, but I doubt hearing them will help you process this.”

They sat silent for a while, neither knowing what to say, but both knowing what the next issue would be that they needed to discuss.

“Merlin, how the hell is Arthur going to be able to execute you tomorrow?”

“He can’t. I can burn and live in that pain, if he wants, but I'll stand there until all the wood on the pyre has burnt to ash.” Merlin looked at Leon, distressed. “I don't doubt that Arthur might regret killing me if he did so, but if he can’t manage to end my life there is no telling how he’ll react.”

Leon nodded in agreement. “The only way for Arthur to forgive you now is if you're out of the picture. But if he fails to kill you, his hate will be fueled by the frustration of his failure. He won’t be able to respond well to that one.”

Merlin’s voice was small. “I don't want to cause him more pain than I already have.”

Leon’s eyes lit up. ‘Maybe you don't have to.” Merlin scooted closer. “Look, it's not a perfect plan, but it's a start.”

“I'm open to ideas.”

“The only way to get out of tomorrow while causing the least amount of residual hurt is to die, right? I mean, if he fails to kill you he’ll turn into his father, and Gwaine, Percival, and Elyan certainly wouldn't have it easy should that happen. He could turn around and strip them of their titles as knights if he turns into Uther. They're my friends. And if you died, they would grieve for you, but they would move on. No offense!” Leon added quickly.

“No, you're right. If I could just die by Arthur’s hand, everything would sort itself out. Except for the fact that I would no longer be able to protect Camelot.”

“Yes, which prompts many questions about what you've done in the past, which I hope you'll divulge,” Leon trailed off receiving a warning look from Merlin. “But anyway, maybe we could solve both problems. You would die but still be able to help Camelot when it needs you, now that I'm assuming we’ve needed you several times before.” Leon eyed Merlin suspiciously. Merlin was sure he could tell Leon everything he needed to know later.

“Well, get to it, what's your idea?”

“What if, when Arthur tries to kill you, you kill yourself instead? Like, you could light your own pyre with… magical fire or something.” Merlin smiled, amused.

“That's a pretty good idea Leon.” He admitted. “If I killed myself, then I would actually be dead, even if only for a day or so. It would be enough to convince them I was gone. But, I don’t love the idea that Arthur would think he actually killed me. He’d be happy at first, but if he ever regretted it, he would feel complete culpability, with no backway explanations to relieve himself of any and all blame for my death.”

“True, I don't really think Arthur wants to kill you, but maybe it's enough that he just wants you dead. Right now at least.”

“What if I killed myself before he got the chance to?”

Leon raised an eyebrow, his attention captured.

“Just like I did when I found out I was immortal, I could stab myself with a dagger I enchant. I could do it during my trial tomorrow morning. It would be public so the councilmen would be satisfied, everyone would be sure I was dead, including Arthur.”

Leon’s nose crinkled in an expression Merlin could only categorize as distrust and mild disgust. “I don't know, that seems kind of violent and disturbing. Almost cruel.”

“I know. But Gwaine won’t be there, so there’s one less person who would be…”

“Horrified?”

“It's either a successful public suicide, or a successful public execution. Both aren't ideal as spectacles, but at least if I died by my own hand, the only guilt Arthur could eventually feel would be indirect.”

Leon sighed, leaning his forehead on the cold bars of Merlin’s cell door. Merlin knew that this wasn't ideal. Suicide wasn't something to be joked around with, it was serious and awful. But, was it really out of character?

He hated to admit it to himself, but if he wasn't immortal, he would be content dying at Arthur’s hand. And if he applied this level of thought in that circumstance, he didn't doubt he might come up with the same idea, just more permanent results.

If Arthur had ever asked Merlin to die before he knew he couldn't, Merlin would have gladly thrust a dagger into himself. The only thing that made this suicide feel worse was that it was a lie. Did he expect Arthur to grieve for him? Maybe, or maybe not. It was an uncomfortable thought, and Merlin wondered if maybe the reason it was so uncomfortable was because the idea of Arthur missing him made him feel good about their relationship, but awful as a person.

“It's a horrible thing to do.” Merlin said.

“Yeah, well, so is letting you die.”

“Oh gods, what am I doing? Leon you need to leave!” Merlin’s conscience caught up to him, earning a confused look from Leon. “You're currently making yourself guilty of treason! Just hearing me talk about this, coming here with the intention of helping me escape punishment? Leon if this ever got traced to you, it would be your trial we’d have to worry about.”

“I don't care!” Leon grabbed the bars in his hands, gripping them tightly. There was definitely an anger in him, bubbling to the surface. “Merlin, I'm going to help you. You must understand, what you did for me this morning, I haven't taken it lightly.”

Merlin wondered what he was referring to, before remembering partially how this whole mess started. That sorceress had left that nasty wound across Leon’s chest and torso. He remembered how Leon looked, bleeding out on the stone as the sorceress assaulted Arthur and the rest of the knights. Merlin had to make a quick decision then, maybe that's what Leon was doing now.

“Leon,” Merlin said gingerly, “you don't blame yourself for what happened this morning right? Me healing you?”

“Well it was me who needed to be healed. But if you think that's the reason I'm helping you, you're mistaken. It certainly helped me come to my newfound conclusions, but it was only a catalyst. You can start a fire with two sticks, but it can’t burn without a sizable pile of wood. And I would call what you do for Camelot sizable.”

Merlin was happy to hear that. It had been a long time since he heard anyone vouch for him like this. It was refreshing. “You know, you really don’t need to help me.”

“I need to. It isn't up for debate. And if we’re going to go through with this plan, you're going to need my help. Because what happens when you do wake up? After a display like that, Arthur’s going to want you buried. That won’t be thrilling to wake up to, and what if you wake up during the burial?”

Merlin’s eyes widened. “Leon are you suggesting that you steal my body?! That’s absolutely insane!”

“I know, but if he buries you right away, you’ll wake up underground. And I don't want to spend hours digging you out, someone would probably find me. But if we can delay them burying you until the day after tomorrow, then I can get you out of the city at night.”

“Okay, but what if I'm still dead by nightfall? It won’t be easy to sneak a corpse out of Camelot.”

“Maybe not, but it's all I have to go on.” Leon reached through the bars and grabbed Merlin’s hand, clasping it between both of his own. “I know this won’t be easy, but I'm willing to do this. It's the only way out of this horrible situation. Promise me we’ll do this together. Promise me you will let me help.”

Merlin looked at Leon’s hands. “I promise. But we’re going to need a distraction. Something big that will delay them from being able to bury me after the trial.”

“You were manipulating the weather when you fought with that sorceress. Could you make a storm? Maybe a snowstorm, so crazy that no one would dare go outside in it?”

“I can.” Merlin had a smile growing across his face. “I can’t believe we’re doing this. It's crazy.”

“So what?” Leon laughed. “We might do better with a little bit of crazy.” He finally let go of Merlin’s hands. “Speaking of crazy, how about you spend the rest of the night telling me who the hell you are?” 

Merlin smiled back. This was good. He felt terrible about what he would do tomorrow, terrible about what the future held for him, and terrible about how tomorrow may affect his friends. But tonight, he had a friend, one who was desperate to do anything to help him. And he knew he had magic, and didn't mind. Merlin felt safe, he felt happy.

“It all started the first day I arrived in Camelot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, first of Merlin and Leon POV chapters! Next one I've already written and it's kind of long but I'm proud of it. Anyway, tell me what you think I love reading your comments!


	7. The Ghosts Are in the Streets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leon struggles with his newfound knowledge, and receives a little help from someone in Merlin's life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter titles are lyrics to the song "The Order Did Abandon Us" by Josh Pyke

Leon was upset. That seemed to be his nature, he was consistently teased for being stoic. He was always referred to as the “loyal knight”, the one who always remained calm and reasonable, regardless of situation.

He discovered that it was difficult to remain calm and reasonable when your friend, who had just publicly healed you with illegal magic, was on a trial to decide his fate. It got more complicated when you mix in the fact that he stayed up all night learning about exactly how deep this situation ran.

Leon got absolutely no sleep, but neither did Merlin. Neither had any desire to, Leon was engaged and delighted with the stories Merlin told him. He was sure he hadn't divulged everything, but he didn't care. There were so many victories, from useless to life-changing, that Merlin deserved the credit for. Credit he would never receive.

When Arthur ran into Leon on the way into the trial to ask him how it felt when Merlin healed him the day before, Leon wasn't sure what to say. What could he say? Certainly not what he wanted. He felt so guilty looking into Arthur’s eyes, knowing of the plan he and Merlin had hatched in the dungeons hours ago.

“I felt nothing but pain when I was slashed, but I just felt this warm feeling after.” Leon decided it would be best to be as honest as he could be before the massive treason he and Merlin would participate in during the trial. He stopped a smile from forming as he continued telling Arthur about the incident.

“Like I was being instantly comforted and… er…” he struggled to find the words, his cheeks feeling hot. “...held.”

He looked toward the doors before them, doors that led to the Great Hall, doors that led to the biggest lie he was ever going to tell. Gods, had he ever lied to his king before? Is this what the knot in his stomach was? Was he going to go through with this, standing in a trial, claiming to hate magic and acting surprised as the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth drove a dagger in himself? It was all a bit much, not to mention that this trial was the easy part for him. Tonight would be difficult.

Leon shook his head. “I admit, what he did for me was… incredible.” Leon would be damned if he didn't give Merlin the credit, even if he would patronizingly lie about magic and its impact to his king’s face. “But magic is illegal and wrong.” It shouldn't be. “I have first-hand experience with your father, killing those with magic.” Slaughtering innocents. “He did it for a reason, and he hardly played favorites.”

Leon hoped Arthur would find comfort in that last line, he didn't want Arthur to hold any guilt for what would happen today. 

~

The trial had been going along better than Leon had expected. True, he had sort of rigged it in Merlin’s favor by not-so-subtly convincing Geoffrey to take control of the trial. Geoffrey liked Merlin, he wouldn't have admitted it, but he respected him. Maybe it was because he was Gaius’ ward, or maybe it was the general chao and mischief that he created in the library that actually lightened Geoffrey’s mood, or maybe it was how Merlin made Arthur less annoying and egocentric over the years.

Leon pained himself by looking over at Gaius every once in a while. The man seemed upset, as he should be, but there was this darker sadness to him. Leon cringed to think of how their little plan would affect Gaius. After all, Gaius would have to watch his ward kill himself to sedate the lords and councilmen. Then after he watched that, Leon and Merlin decided it would be best if while they were unable to bury Merlin’s body, Merlin’s body should be moved to Gaius’ chambers. It made the most sense, to keep the body with the physician. It would be incredibly easy to sneak out of the castle from there.

He looked out the window, it was perfect timing. There was an incredibly sizable snowstorm tumbling from the sky. It was white everywhere you could see, and from the Hall you could usually see shops and house roofs, but there was nothing. The conditions were dreadful, just like they planned. No doubt thanks to Merlin, again, just like they planned.

When it was Leon’s turn to say his piece, it was harder than he thought. He didn't want to accumulate any suspicion, so they decided it would be best if he stood his ground against magic. “Magic has no place in Camelot. That is what Uther believed.” He paused, only slightly. “I believed it too.”

Gods, did he really say “believed”? Did anyone notice? He began to leave his post, when Geoffrey’s voice forced him to pause.

Leon listened numbly as Geoffrey requested to hear what Leon thought Lancelot would say. What would Lancelot say? After last night and everything Merlin told him, he knew what Lancelot would say. He wouldn't be surprised at Merlin’s magic because he knew.

Lancelot made Leon feel guilty in a lot of ways. Lancelot knew Merlin had magic, and he was okay with it. He supported him when he needed a friend. He stood by Merlin, unconditionally. And in the end, he died for him.

That was the rough part, wasn't it? The whole dying for someone thing. Leon was well-accustomed to the act, he was a knight. That was his purpose. Serve for your king and kingdom, protect your king and kingdom, die for your king and kingdom. Uther used to say that a knight who died by old age was proving that he never should have been a knight at all. Leon had always been okay with dying for Uther, and then for Arthur.

But this? This was new territory. He was betraying the man he’d die for. Arthur looked at Leon everyday with this kind of trust, he knew he could rely on Leon’s honesty. So what then was this? This wasn't honesty, this was treason.

Then why did it feel right? It shouldn't, being the Head Knight of Camelot. That was a title that came with capital letters, shiny swords, extra meat in a feast. His job was to protect Camelot first. That's all this was, protecting Camelot by protecting the warlock who had been doing a better job at that than anyone else.

That's when Leon finally knew that this was what he needed to do. He may always feel guilty for how Merlin’s suicide might affect Arthur and his friends, but he knew he didn't need to feel guilty for betraying Arthur, because he wasn't betraying him at all.

The only way Leon could betray Arthur was if he let him execute his best friend.

Perhaps it was that revelation that caused Leon to speak so openly and freely on behalf of Lancelot, the man who had obviously come to these conclusions before anyone else.

So, Leon swallowed his nerves. “If he were here…” He looked at Merlin. He wasn't sure he knew how to tell what Merlin was thinking and feeling during this trial, but the mere mention of Lancelot had knocked him off his game. “Lancelot would sooner chain his own hands behind his back before watching Merlin suffer this fate.”

Leon didn't want to see what everyone’s reactions were to this comment, especially Merlin’s. He knew now what Lancelot meant to the man, what it meant to have someone to stick by you when everyone else could never be able to, not in how much he knew Merlin and understood him. Leon hoped maybe he could be that person now, but doubted he would ever have the mature wisdom that Lancelot used to calm everyone he loved.

Leon barely paid attention when Merlin began to speak. He heard the odd word, the odd promise, and the odd general admission of guilt. He was staring intently at Merlin’s boot, just waiting. As Merlin had spoken, the guards shifted further and further away, giving the man room, just like Leon knew would happen. So he just waited.

It was his own dagger. Not very special, and not recognizable by anyone who could throw suspicion on him, but it was Leon’s dagger. It was his own dagger that Merlin would stab into himself with, the same dagger that would be covered with Merlin’s blood.

He watched the sight with horror like everyone else. His may have been devoid of shock, but he highly doubted a single person at the room was looking at anything other than the blood flooding out of the sorcerer who had already been on his knees, now completely and unconsciously lying on the floor, eyes open, lingering on the king.

The aftermath was something Leon wished daily he could forget as he remembered each face he saw.

Gwen had immediately erupted into incoherent shrieks and sobbing. The absolute wreckage that was her emotions played out savagely as the lords and councilmen’s breaths were stilled, as if to provide the queen with silence to scream her nothingness into.

The doors had been opened and many people had flooded out. Some stayed, awaiting instructions. Leon looked at Arthur. The man’s expression hadn't changed since he had looked at Merlin while he was still alive and speaking. 

“There is no way to dispel the body in this horrid weather,” Leon was more than happy to volunteer. “Take him to Gaius’ chambers, there he will stay for the night.”

Gaius looked dead. If Leon didn't know better, he would assume the man was a visiting ghost, observing the trial. Somehow the old physician had managed to age an incredible amount over the last day, and it sure didn't appear to improve after watching his ward end his own life. That one had to leave a man with a hollow emptiness that Leon prayed he would never have to experience for himself.

Some guards returned to the room with a cot. Percival was by Merlin’s side, lifting him onto it. Percival was a large but fragile man, that much he already knew, but the way he was now was crushing. Where the devastation on Gwen and Gaius’ faces was extremely tangible, it was not surprising that the knights should hold themselves in a different manner. Leon knew how Percival could feel things, he let every little thing under his skin, because he knew he could handle it. Percival looked seconds away from not being able to handle this.

As they began carrying the cot out, Gaius and Gwen slowly following, Elyan whimpered. It was a strange sound, like it came from a wounded animal. Leon tried not to look at him, because he knew how much it would hurt. He was betraying his friends by letting them feel this pain. Elyan ran out, he ran like there was fire biting his heels, tears streaming down his face.

And gods, that sound. That wretched sound. He should have known that the consequence of causing a magical snow storm would be the all too early arrival of Gwaine. The sound of Gwaine’s screams echoed in Leon’s ears in ways he could not soon forget.

The fury in Gwaine’s eyes, the way he had looked at Arthur, that stayed with Leon. But when Arthur fell to the ground, Leon didn't know what to do. He wasn't prepared for this. This was pain, this was torment, this was torture. Knights were trained to survive and persist through torture, but this was different. This was worse. You can blame physical pain on sensations, on other people, but the pain of seeing their friend end his own life and bleed out in front of all of them, that was a pain unlike any they had felt. You could only blame your own emotions taking hold of you and shaking every sane thought from your brain. There was no perpetrator, no scapegoat.

When Gwaine uncharacteristically helped Arthur out of the room, Leon had half a mind to follow them out to be sure Gwaine wouldn't stab him the second they left, but he couldn't move his legs.

Eventually Percival finally got the strength to leave. Leon was the only person in the Great Hall now, he just stood and thought about everything and cried. He hadn't cried this hard in a very long time, but he couldn't stop the tears from flowing and the noise from escaping his throat. He sounded like a wounded child, loudly sobbing in that large room, completely alone. He felt very alone. He felt awful.

~

Leon had long since regained his senses by nightfall. He had a job to do, and working was what he was best at.

He had been worried about getting past Gaius. That was one of the many things, he realized as he was slinking through the castle halls, that he and Merlin hadn't factored into their plan. The plan was simple, get Merlin’s dead body, get him out of Camelot, and hide him near the Lake of Avalon. If he wouldn't wake up by that time, at least.

Leon had no intentions of just leaving his friend's corpse in the woods, but he thought it was best not to tell Merlin that and then listen to the warlock lecture him on how he shouldn't bother himself or incriminate himself any further.

He crept into Gaius’ chambers noiselessly. He was rather proud of how he got halfway across the room without a noise. He could see the physician, asleep in an uncomfortable position against his desk. He also saw Merlin, lying stiffly on a bed, clearly moved. He looked better than he had this morning, he was wearing different clothes, ones with less blood stains on them. That didn't surprise Leon at all, it was likely that Gaius would want Merlin to be buried as best as he could.

Then Leon accidentally kicked a pot. It clanged loudly across the floor, the tin sound echoing between every inch and corner of the room. But Gaius didn't budge. That seemed suspicious, he had expected to be caught and had already tried to formulate an excuse.

He walked over and examined the old man, he was dead asleep. Leon touched his shoulder tentatively, before realizing that he wasn't going to wake up anytime soon.

Somehow, Merlin was using magic. While dead. That didn't make any sense to Leon at all, but he thought that most things didn't make any sense to him right now anyway, so he shouldn't question the small things, especially if they were helpful.

Leon prepared a bag in Merlin’s room, stuffing in lots of Merlin’s clothes, and certain items that Leon thought Merlin might appreciate having with him, even though he was unsure of what items in his room Merlin actually cared for.

He looked around sadly. This might be the last time Merlin would ever be here, either in Gaius’ chambers, or Merlin’s own room, or even the castle itself. He made a note to ask Merlin if there was anything else he wanted Leon to bring him when he woke up.

Leon had a large black cloak and cape over his shoulders. He put the bag of Merlin’s belongings around his shoulder and under his cloak, and went to cover Merlin with another cape.

He wrapped the cape around Merlin’s small frame, and lifted him in his arms, one arm under the bend at his knees, and the other underneath his upper back.

Here came the other, perhaps the largest part of the plan they had left out. How the hell was he going to smuggle Merlin’s body out of Camelot?

Though the cape may cover Leon’s face, it will still be someone very obviously carrying a body. But, he had gone too far to give up now, so he made his way out the door.

Somehow, some way, Merlin’s magic had to have assisted their escape. Every guard they passed looked through them as though they weren't even there at all.

When Leon got outside, he was surprised by the cold. It had stopped snowing, but the temperature stayed dangerously low. He instinctively reached for some gloves to put on Merlin, before remembering that Merlin didn't feel anything.

He made his way through the courtyard, over the training field, and through the towns of Camelot. It wasn't extremely far a walk to exit the city gates from the castle, and Leon had been hurrying to quickly evade any culpability, even though he seriously doubted that Merlin’s magic would let him get caught.

With a horse he took from the stables, Leon made it to the Lake of Avalon rather quickly. He had expected more trouble, maybe a guard or citizen noticing him, perhaps even some trouble with bandits in the woods, but nothing interrupted him at all.

When he arrived at the lake, it seemed oddly beautiful. The entire lake had turned to ice, it was frozen over as far as he could see. The moonlight bounced off the ice, causing the entire lake to glitter.

The shore he stood at was gorgeous, lit up by the muted white light of the moon and it's reflection on the lake before him. He dismounted and gingerly laid Merlin’s body on the grass, which lightly crunched beneath him, the frost causing it to be brittle.

If he hadn't been staring at his friend’s corpse, he might have reveled in how this may have been the most beautiful sight he had seen in a while.

He sat next to his dead friend, and sighed. It was a heavy sigh, letting out everything he had been holding in for the whole day. He was here, he did it. He did what he promised to do, what he owed Merlin. But he couldn't leave yet, not until he woke up.

“Merlin, wake up!” Leon tried, nudging him in the shoulder. The body limply moved along with it.

Leon began to panic. What if Merlin didn't wake up for a few days? Someone would certainly notice Leon had gone, and it was freezing out here, he doubted that even if he set up camp and started a fire that these were good conditions to stay out in.

The worse, more morbid thought crept into his mind, what if this had all been a trick? Maybe a well-intentioned one, but a lie nonetheless. What if Merlin wasn't really immortal, and he just said that so that Leon would stop fretting over him last night in the dungeons? What if Merlin had really, truly, ended his life that morning and Leon had barely paid attention to it because he thought it wasn't real?

“Hello, Sir Leon.” A light, airy voice spoke from the distance. Leon whipped his head up and scanned the trees. He couldn't see anyone, until he looked toward the frozen lake.

A woman, small, pale, and thin with dark hair stood on the ice, only a few feet from shore. She seemed very wet, which made little sense considering the lake was frozen over and it certainly hadn't been raining. She slowly walked over, still standing on the lake, but at the very edge.

“Who are you?” He asked in awe, because although her demeanor wasn't intimidating, something radiated off of her that he couldn't comprehend.

“I am the Lady of the Lake, and the Guardian of the souls of Avalon.” She said with a patient smile. “But he knew me as Freya.” She gestured to Merlin, still stiff and unresponsive.

Leon scrambled to stand up. “You know Merlin?” He paused, her name ringing in the back of his mind. “Actually, I think he told me about you yesterday. You're the woman that he… that he loved.” Leon’s heart ached as he remembered Merlin’s story of falling in love with the young girl who had been cursed to transform into a bastet. The love that he lost at Arthur’s hand. Enough to make an ordinary sorcerer vindictive, but still not enough to pressure Merlin to use magic against his king.

Her eyes shone in the moonlight, water still dripping off of her, somehow. “Bring him here, so that I may see him.” Leon did, carefully lifting the warlock and bringing him to the very edge of the lake, where she knelt over to touch his face. “My dear Emrys.” She whispered.

Leon wasn't sure what the sadness in her face meant, so he settled on an explanation. “He isn't actually dead. I mean he is, but he won’t be forever.” Freya simply looked at him, prompting Leon to remember what Merlin told him in the dungeons before he told him his story of his time in Camelot. “But you already knew that, you were the one who told him.” She nodded, looking back at Merlin. The look in her eyes was so soft, so loving and heartbroken. Leon wanted to burst into tears. He had never felt love like that, it was the way Gwen looked at Arthur on their wedding day. “How long will he be dead?”

Not taking her eyes off the warlock, she answered. “Usually, he would awake about a day after he died. But, I can bring him back sooner.” She began to run her hands over his body, her eyes glowing. Finally she stopped, and Merlin looked no different. “He’ll be up in about a minute.”

Taking this as an opportunity to ask questions, Leon asked “is it possible for him to use magic while he’s dead?”

“He can’t use his magic while he’s dead, but his magic will leave his body. It won’t be trapped within him, and yet it will never stray far from him. It will protect him while he is gone, and wait for him to come back.”

“That explains why no one noticed us leaving then, his magic was protecting him.”

“Actually, it was likely protecting you, Sir Leon. His magic is a part of him, so it will behave like he does. And knowing him, he would want you to be protected more than himself.”

Finally, after what had seemed like a day that would never end, Merlin stirred. The two left him to figure out how to move again, deciding it would be best not to swarm him while he was getting his bearings.

“Freya?” He sounded confused, studying her intently. “Leon?” He took a moment to think. “Oh gods, did the plan work? Are you alright?” He was grabbing the edge of Leon’s cloak, desperately searching for an answer in the man’s face.

Leon and Freya both laughed. “Of course I’m okay Merlin. I'm not the one who killed himself in court.”

Merlin sat up, looking directly at Freya. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, you know you could try to visit every once in a while.” Freya put her hand on Merlin’s. He took it in his own and squeezed it.

“You have to leave now don’t you?”

She nodded somberly. “I have a job to do. But before I go Merlin, I wanted to tell you, there is a small group of assorted druids and sorcerers alike gathering, and they’re in dire need of leadership. Perhaps from Emrys?” She gave him a pointed look. “Just a thought. I love you.” She stood up and helped Merlin up with her.

“I love you too.” And with that, she was gone. Leon could see Merlin shiver slightly, as though her presence had distracted him from the freezing weather. He turned to face Leon again. “You should probably get back to Camelot before people notice you’re gone, and so is my dead body.” Merlin paused, a concerned look forming. “What will you tell them? They’re going to have questions about how I walked out of the castle.”

“I actually thought of that. I would throw them off my scent by claiming to have seen a figure in black running through the courtyard through my window. Maybe help them piece together that it may have been a druid, attempting to bury their… well king, I suppose.” Leon laughed. “King Emrys. Gods, King Merlin!” Merlin laughed with him.

Leon shuffled his feet after a moment of silence. “So, where will you go? What will you do?”

“Well, I need to sneak into Ealdor and tell my mother what happened. Arthur will send word to her about what happened today, and I can’t make her go through that. But I can’t stay there.” An icy look went over Merlin’s face as he looked off in the distance. “Whatever I do, or wherever I end up going, the first thing I need to do is rescue that boy and get rid of that sorceress. I just need to find them first.” He looked back at Leon and put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Leon… I don’t even know…”

Leon put his hand atop Merlin’s. “You don’t have to say anything. This is just the beginning of what will be a long road to fixing my past mistakes. And don’t think you're getting away without me bothering you anymore. You're not getting me out of your life now.”

Merlin smiled fondly at him. “Thank you. For everything.”

Leon hopped back on his horse. “No, thank you Merlin. For… literally everything you've ever done.”

Leon rode off towards Camelot, and rehearsed the lie he would have to tell people about what happened to Merlin. When he approached the gates of Camelot he shouted at the guards, who could now apparently see him unlike earlier, to inform Arthur that Merlin’s body was stolen immediately.

He could have sworn that someone was watching him from the tree line, but by the time he looked back there was nothing there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I love reading all your comments. This was a longer one, but seems more on par with the length of the chapters in most of the Merlin fics on here lol. I promise we will get to the other vague details in the next chapter... namely the necklace Percival found and Merlin's side of where he went for those months.
> 
> Also all the dialogue from the trial in this chapter is the exact dialogue used in chapter 2 for the trial from Arthur's perspective.


	8. They're Making Noises in the Tenements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin meets with a couple of familiar faces and Leon gets a special delivery by a mysterious girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter titles are lyrics to the song "The Order Did Abandon Us" by Josh Pyke

It had only been three weeks since Merlin’s trial, and Leon was getting antsy. It was as if his entire world had been flipped over and he was now living in a different world. And this world sucked.

Gwaine had already become an alcoholic wreck. Leon found himself watering down everything he could get his hands on as if to spare Gwaine’s organs even if for just a moment before he slipped away toward the tavern again. And Leon would hardly have any luck demanding that the bartenders refuse service to Gwaine because it was clear he was their best customer.

Elyan was quiet. He was always quiet, but this time he avoided everyone around him. Percival was a shell of the man he had been before.

Leon wished he could pretend to be the only normal one while he waited for them to move on, considering he was the only one who wasn't grieving for their friend, but the guilt and shame of the secrets he carried were rotting inside him.

Arthur had already been poised to be upset that Merlin was dead, but he was even worse after Leon told him about the “intruder” who stole Merlin’s body. Arthur had become a ghost. An angry, self-righteous ghost, but still. He floated through the halls, either barking orders or remaining eerily silent, and Leon didn't like it at all.

He wished he had some way of contacting Merlin, and he had tried. One week in, he went back to the lake, but naturally Merlin wasn't there. He couldn't find him anywhere, and he didn't have any luck summoning Freya to tell him.

But things began to turn around when Leon got a knock on his chamber door.

~

Merlin had never been one to be quick at making friends. He was extremely friendly, and had amassed a large group of acquaintances and friends who would be sad to hear anything that would happen to him, but it never happened intentionally. All his best relationships sprouted organically.

Visiting his mother had been hard. He snuck in and spent two nights at her house before leaving to divert any suspicion someone might be staying with her. She was mortified and confused, and Merlin left out the whole immortality bit, thinking that might not be the most calming slice of information for his poor mother to hear.

He had been afraid to leave Ealdor, because he knew he had to think about what he was going to do. He couldn't stay in any towns in Camelot or in its jurisdiction for fear of being found out, but he knew he had to find that damn sorceress and free the boy she kidnapped. A young child named Erik. But while he was hunting them down, he needed to find a place to stay, and it was starting to seem impossible.

He slept next to the Lake of Avalon for two nights, trusting Freya to watch over him, and she did. He knew she would continue to, for as long as he needed, but he desired a place he could call home again.

So, five days since his trial, Merlin was lurking in the woods again, picking up on faded magic trails left by the sorceress. He was close, he could feel it. But, he was interrupted by a commotion happening nearby.

A rather large troupe of bandits had a man tied to a tree, a gag over his mouth and a sword to his throat. He couldn't tell what they were saying, or even really what they wanted from the man. He was tall with dark skin, and incredibly muscular, like Percival. He wore peasants clothing and had no professional weapons on him, save for one long spear that was strapped to his back.

Merlin knew he had to save this man, some part of his heart, his inner magic, was pulling him to him. So, from his location obstructed from the bandits view, he started to take them down, one at a time. It would appear more ominous that way.

When he jumped out, he realized that for the first time in a very, very long time, he could use his magic. In the open, clear as day. It was exhilarating. He knew he could use any spell he wanted, without fear of being exposed.

Taking down the bandits was easy. Incredibly so. He had nothing hindering him, nothing holding him back. Even if he had both hands tied behind his back, he could mutter one word and they'd all be on the ground, dead. Taking them out one by one was just an excuse to use the magic that coursed through him so freely.

With one flash of his eyes, the man who had been bound to the tree was released, the ropes tying his hands and mouth dropped to the forest floor. He just stared at Merlin with an expression Merlin hadn't expected and couldn't quite read.

“You're Emrys.” He whispered, before getting on one knee and bowing his head to him. Merlin gave a hearty laugh and reached a hand down to the man.

“Yes, but Merlin will do just fine.” The man looked surprised, but took his hand and allowed Merlin to pull him off the ground.

“Forgive me, I just expected you to be more…”

“Of a prat?” That earned a laugh from the stranger. Merlin scoffed at the notion. “I understand that my existence is important in some stories and prophecies, but I'm not really a king. I'm just a man.”

“A man who very easily took down a group of sixteen well-respected bandits.”

“Well, I didn't respect them, so they can’t be that impressive.”

The man smiled warmly at him. It felt nice, to be treated with such a reverence, even if Merlin resented being above anybody else. “I hope you don't mind me asking, but why is the great Emrys wandering around the woods, saving strangers?”

“That wasn't my intention. My life was a bit derailed a few days ago.” He awkwardy rubbed the back of his neck. “There’s something I have to do, but after that’s done, I don't know, I feel a bit directionless.”

“Directionless? For a man with your destiny?”

“I know it sounds pretty bad. I know there’s a lot expected of me, but without any current, pressing matters to take care of, I feel a little lost.”

The man’s face morphed into one of understanding. ‘I know that feeling. I was training as a squire, hoping to one day become a knight, when I felt the calling of magic. It was so strong that I knew I had to follow it. And when I left behind my life I realized, even though I had left with such goals and dreams for the future, I had no idea where to start.”

“So, where did you start?”

The man smiled. “I'll show you.” He had an almost mischievous look on his face. Merlin felt comforted at how familiar this stranger felt. The man reached out a hand to shake Merlin’s. “The name’s Dameron, your highness.” He added, sarcastically.

Dameron led Merlin through the woods and to a fairly large clearing. Merlin was a little surprised to feel the rush of magic that surrounded him, as if inspecting him. The clearing was filled with tents, but large ones used to house actual families. It was similar to druid camps that Merlin had visited so often before, but perhaps more advanced.

If he had to guess, he would say maybe twenty to thirty people were living here. It was like a little hidden village, and it felt incredible. There was magic all around, it was tangible. He could feel it in the wind around him and in his fingers. He saw many people outside the tents, walking around, laughing, socializing, and more importantly, smiling.

Dameron led him through the people, and they all looked at Merlin with awe. He wasn't sure how, but there was a way they knew he was Emrys. Usually when he was immediately recognized as Emrys, he felt uncomfortable and intimidated, but it was comforting. He was somewhere where he was accepted, no, admired. And he needn't explain himself here either, his destiny did that for him.

Dameron led him into a tent, it was crimson red, and incredibly large, with two rooms extending from either side. Inside was a desk and chair, along with several different decorations and even a bookshelf. It felt warm, inviting, and a lot like home.

“This is where I started,” Dameron professed.

“It’s where a lot of people start.” Merlin turned to see a young girl had followed them inside. She looked like she was in her very early teens, maybe thirteen or fourteen. Her hair was blonde and cut extremely short. She was very pale, short, and frail, but the way she stood portrayed a large amount of confidence.

Dameron smiled warmly at her. “Merlin, this is my apprentice, Hollie. Hollie, this is-”

“Oh I'm well aware. You're Emrys, you're an inspiration!” She had crossed the distance between them immediately and was aggressively shaking Merlin’s hand. “You have no idea what it means to meet you. I've dreamed of meeting you my whole life.”

Merlin smiled at her, but felt a bit nervous. She dreamed of meeting him? No one had ever been this excited to see him before. “I'm afraid I might be a bit of a letdown. I'm not a god, I'm just a… person.”

Hollie’s eyes were wide and she nodded quickly in response. “Oh, I know you are! That's why you're so inspiring!” Merlin raised an eyebrow. “The idea that you exist is enough. You were born with magic, that alone is incredible. I was born with a little bit, but I've had to learn to use it. You didn't have to. You didn't choose this lifestyle, or where your destiny would force you to go with it.” She let out a breath, looking Merlin up and down. “You lived in Camelot, of all places.”

Merlin let out a sad laugh at that. “Yes, that's true. Not anymore though.”

Dameron cut in. “I was thinking, you could live here.”

Merlin smiled widely at that. “This village is incredible, I would love to stay here, as long as there’s room for one more tent.” He said, half joking. Dameron and Hollie exchanged an amused, knowing look that took Merlin a moment to interpret. “Wait when you say here, do you mean here, like right here? Oh gods, this is the biggest tent here.”

“Well, you're the most important person here.” Dameron interjected.

“No, absolutely not! That's… that's just… no.”

“Regardless,” Dameron continued. “You need a place to stay, and we need a leader.” That caught Merlin’s attention immediately. “This space is befitting of a leader, it's at the heart of our little village and in case you haven't noticed, it's the only tent that's made of dyed cloth, hence the red.” He motioned all around them. ‘But seriously, I've been living here for a while, having taken it upon myself to try and protect these people, but that isn't my role. It's yours. And I don't want your role, trust me.” He gave Merlin a hopeful smile. “I'll still live in one of the two rooms, but this is for you. It's always been reserved for… Emrys.”

“This entire village is full of people with magic and their families. They need someone to look up to.” Hollie pleaded. “They need someone to protect them and to be there for them. That's where you come in. That's what Emrys has always stood for.”

Merlin couldn't help but smile, for what felt like the millionth time that day. “I'll stay here. Of course, I'll stay here. Protecting people has always felt like my purpose, and I don't want that to change. But if I stay, I'm going to need your help on a mission first.” An idea crept into his brain, and pulled his satchel from his shoulders to begin digging in it. “Have either of you ever been to Camelot?”

~

Leon was a bit confused by who would be knocking at a time so late into the night. He grabbed his sword before going to open the door. When he did open the door, he was a bit surprised to see a young girl standing there. What surprised him most though, was that she was wearing a cloak. A black cloak. The same black cloak that he wrapped Merlin in when he whisked him away from Gaius’ chambers.

“Who-?” But the girl had already pulled on his sleeve and started dragging him to the hall, so that they wouldn't wake the other knights sleeping in there.

Once they had turned into a dead end, she finally stopped. “Listen, I have something to give you.”

She was staring at him, and Leon felt intensely uncomfortable. “Who are you? And why did you drag me here?”

“I just said why.”

“I… okay… I suppose.” Leon shook his head. He was getting frustrated, he didn't quite feel scared or defensive, just overwhelmingly confused. “What is it?”

She reached her hand into her pocket and pulled out a necklace. It was a sparkling sea blue stone in the shape of a teardrop dangling from a thick silver chain. Both of them just stared at it for a minute. She placed it in Leon’s hands, gingerly, as though it were precious. 

“Merlin sent me. He told me to give you this, in case you ever need him, or he ever needs you,” the girl explained.

“How will a necklace accomplish that exactly?”

“This is Merlin we’re talking about here. It's not a normal necklace.” She looked annoyed.

“Right.” Leon examined it closely. “How do I use this then?”

“Easy. You hold up the stone and look directly at its center while whispering ‘Volo loqui homo ad quae non potest mori’, and Merlin will do the rest.”

“Could you maybe write that down for me?”

This time she seemed more amused than annoyed. “I forget that it's kind of hard to retain magical phrases if you’re not… magic.” She paused for a moment. “How about ‘loqueris ad me’. Could you remember that?”

Leon nodded. “Simple enough.” And with that, the girl began to turn and walk away. “Wait, that’s it?” He hissed, trying to still be quiet since they were in the hallway. 

“What else do you want?”

“If Merlin gave this to you, you could at least tell me how he is! Is he safe?”

For the first time since she arrived, her face softened a little bit. She let down her guard, likely in response to Leon’s concern for Merlin’s safety. “He’s fine. He’s found a home, and he’s working diligently to find that sorceress and return that boy.”

Leon could tell by her face when she spoke of him, that she admired Merlin. A lot. He couldn't blame her, after all he admired Merlin even though he hadn't actually seen much of his power. Merlin told him that there were many magic users and druids who thought of him as Emrys, the most powerful warlock to ever roam the earth. Leon could guess that this girl was one of the people who believed in that. Probably because it was true.

“Thank you.” Leon bowed his head to her gratefully. “Coming in here was brave, and I'm sure that won’t go unnoticed by Merlin.” He saw her blush excitedly as she scuttered away.

Leon snuck through the halls of Camelot until he reached an unoccupied and unguarded guest chamber. He slipped inside and locked the door behind him.

He had to try to use this thing before dawn broke, partially because he wanted to see if it could truly reach Merlin, partially because he was curious about positive magic, and partially because he was desperate to see Merlin’s face, or hear his voice. Just a little physical reminder that Merlin wasn't actually dead like everyone in the kingdom believed. A little slice of time where Leon could feel not so alone.

He shut his eyes, trying to remember the spell she had given him. Loquatis al me? Something with ‘me’. Oh gods, of course this would be the one thing preventing him from seeing Merlin.

He felt a warm draft settle throughout the room, and for a moment it felt like light was sinking into his bones. ‘Loqueris ad me’, the light whispered in his brain. He recognized that feeling, it was the feeling he had three weeks ago when he had been bleeding out after being slashed by the sorceress, and Merlin had used magic to heal him completely.

Leon figured he could ask questions later, so he lifted the stone to eye level and whispered “loqueris ad me” as he stared into it. After a moment of waiting, the bit of his reflection he caught in the jewel began to ripple. He leaned in closer, as suddenly the stone seemed to stretch around his vision. 

He felt the world around him become blue, as if he were inside the stone. And in front of him, was Merlin, smiling like he always did.

“Merlin!” Leon gasped, and he reached an arm forward, but it seemed to dip into a wall of water that he couldn't see, as though Merlin was just Leon’s own reflection in a lake.

“It’s good to see you. I hope you’re well.” Merlin looked as though he were fighting an urge to reach out for Leon as well.

“I am. It's been a strange experience, knowing what I know now. It's harder every day to pretend you're dead. Everyone is a wreck.”

Merlin’s face shifted into confusion. “But it's been three weeks!”

Leon let out a bitter laugh. “Merlin, I think it will take longer than you expect to move past your suicide. I know it's hard for you to believe in how much everyone cares for you considering the circumstance, but I can see it in their eyes. They wander the streets like ghosts, simply floating through their chambers and tenements. Especially Gwaine.”

He had never seen a man look so guilty. It broke his heart,so he diverted to what he really wanted to speak to him about. “I met a friend of yours a minute ago. She’s feisty.”

Merlin laughed heartily. “Good to hear she’s like that all the time. Gods Leon, I've met some of the most wonderful people. I was in the woods this morning and I found a man named Dameron, he was kind and he knew who I was as Emrys. He led me to this wonderful hidden village full of magical people, just outside Camelot. The girl I sent to you was Hollie. She’s very determined, I can tell.”

“Boy do I know,” Leon joked. “I'm glad you're happy. Really, you deserve to be.”

“Listen, I need to meet with you tomorrow. Is there any time you can slip away?”

Leon let out a dry and sad laugh. “These days it's pretty easy to break from schedule. Everyone’s too distracted to care. I can meet you after morning training?”

Merlin nodded. I'll wait just an hour deep into the forest, you'll know where to find me tomorrow. I’ll see you then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update! I've been really immersed in other fandoms and college prep for the last month but I'm back and will be updating more frequently :) Thank you for your patience and I LOVE reading your comments! Comment predictions as we finish connecting the dots...


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